A Case of Identity
by silvermoony77
Summary: Summary: A mysterious figure appears outside 221B Baker Street one night and starts a chain of events that changes the lives of the famous friends, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. Who is this person and what do they want? Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1 A Visitor

_Summary: A mysterious figure appears outside 221B Baker Street one night and starts a chain of events that changes the lives of the famous friends, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. Who is this person and what do they want? Please read and review!_

Chapter 1 A Visitor

This is perhaps my favorite of all Holmes' cases, but it is the least well-known. I finally asked Holmes' permission to document the case and he agreed whole-heartedly. I was afraid he would tell me to drop the subject, but he seemed interested in what I had to say. In fact he even assisted me with sharp details, thanks to his acute mind and amazing memory.

I remember the night that started it all quite well. I was just getting over a light case of pneumonia and was resting by the fire one dark and rainy evening. The sickness had weakened me greatly, so much so that I was unable to help Holmes with his influx of cases. In fact that very evening, he was out investigating a case, one that will not be mentioned here.

I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard a series of gunshots. I heard a woman scream in our little apartment and I rushed down to the kitchen to find Mrs. Hudson holding a tea tray which she had spilled over in response to the shots.

"Did you hear them, Doctor?" the woman asked shakily as we began cleaning up the mess, "Gave me quite a fright, it did!"

Suddenly, there was a knock at our door. I left Mrs. Hudson to finish cleaning and looked through the keyhole. All I could see was a mass of long, white hair. Frowning, I opened the door and a strange sight met my eyes.

A boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen, was holding a gigantic Old English sheepdog in his arms. He had on a tweed cap, a white shirt stained with blood, and dark pants which were also wet with blood. The dog was bleeding heavily from a wound in its side and the boy looked hysterical.

"Please sir, someone needs to call a doctor!" he said, his voice high with fright, "My dog, he was shot sir, please call a doctor!"

"Come in lad," I told the boy, stepping aside to let him in, "Take him into the kitchen and lay him on the floor."

The boy did as I told. When we entered the kitchen, Mrs. Hudson let out a cry of shock when she saw the boy and the bleeding dog.

"It's all right, Mrs. Hudson," I said calmly, "Now, I need you to get me my medical bag from upstairs as well as a basin of clean, warm water."

She nodded and left. The boy turned to me with relief.

"You're a doctor!" he said, "Oh thank heavens!"

He let out a gasp of pain and clutched his side. I then realized that not all the blood on his shirt was from his dog.

"You're hurt as well," I said as Mrs. Hudson returned with the bag and basin, "Lie down, I'll tend to you first. Thank you Mrs. Hudson, you should stay, I may need your assistance with the boy."

"NO!" the boy shouted and backed away from me, "Please sir, I'm fine. My dog, he got shot twice, I was only grazed by one. He's…he's dying sir."

The boy's eyes shone with tears. I knew he was determined so, against my better judgment, I decided to tend to the dog first. All the while, the boy held the dog's large head in his hands, whispering comforting words as he fought to keep back the sobs that were trying to escape his lips. I removed the bullets, after having to shave some of the fur out of the way, and cleaned and stitched up the wound. The entire time, the dog didn't make a sound or move. He was obviously very well trained. Once I washed the equipment well, I turned my attention to the young man.

"Now then, do you see your dog is taken care of?" I asked impatiently as the boy backed away from me again.

"Please sir, if I could ask you to do one more thing for me," the boy asked quickly, "I need to find someone who can help me, but obviously my dog cannot come with me. Will you promise to take the best of care of him while I am gone? Will you treat him like you would any human patient?"

"You're not leaving like that!" Mrs. Hudson said hoarsely, "I won't allow it, and I'm sure Dr. Watson will agree with me, being the medical man that he is, that you cannot leave!"

"Dr. Watson?" the boy looked at me, "Sherlock Holmes' assistant? You mean, I'm already at 221B Baker Street?"

"Yes lad," I said kindly, "Now then, can I please have a look at you?"

The boy looked at me suspiciously, then at his dog, and began to come towards me. Suddenly, the door banged open and I heard footsteps running up the stairs.

"Watson?"

"Down here Holmes!" I called and the boy froze.

Holmes' footsteps came down the stairs and into the kitchen. He looked at Mrs. Hudson, myself, the unmoving boy, and then the dog on the floor.

"I see I have missed something," Holmes said, turning his hawk-like eyes on the boy, "Is there something I can do for you, miss?"

I turned to the boy and found him smiling.

"Very observant, Mr. Holmes," she said weakly, taking off the tweed hat and her long, brown hair fell past her shoulders. Then, her eyes rolled up into her head and she fell to the ground.

Holmes frowned at the girl and turned to me.

"I think you better give this young lady some medical attention," he said and left.

Shaking my head, Mrs. Hudson and I carried the girl up the stairs and into the spare bedroom. I left so Mrs. Hudson could bathe the girl and returned when summoned by the landlady.

"She's still out," Mrs. Hudson informed me as I entered.

Mrs. Hudson had put a towel to the wound and had dressed the girl so that I could examine the wound without breaking her personal privacy. It was deeper than a graze, but it would heal on its own. However, in the excitement of everything, I believe the girl had run up her blood pressure and lost enough blood to make her woozy.

"She will be fine, Mrs. Hudson," I told the maid as I bandaged the wound, and happened to look over my shoulder to see her crying, "Why are you crying?"

"She…She reminds me of my niece," Mrs. Hudson said between sobs, "My niece was beautiful, just like this little lass, and she died after being shot while coming home from school. I'm sorry, Doctor."

"No, no Mrs. Hudson, I'm sorry for you. But fear not, this young lady will not meet the same fate as your niece." I finished bandaging and started packing everything up into my bag.

"Dr. Watson," Mrs. Hudson said, "Should someone watch over her tonight, in case her condition takes a turn for the worst?"

"A very good idea," I said, "I shall have to keep watch on her. You go and get some rest."

"If it's all right with you Doctor, I would like to look after her. It would be a pleasure and a burden relieved. After all, the dog's condition is much worse. I think it would be better for a skilled doctor like you to watch over the sicker patient."

It took me a few seconds to realize what Mrs. Hudson was saying and I agreed. In truth, I had forgotten about the dog entirely. The girl's pleas for her dog to be taken care of filled my mind and I knew she would be quite angry with me if her dog died due to my negligence.

"Very well," I said, getting up to leave, "But first I must tell Holmes what has happened, unless he has figured it out for himself. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if he did."

I chuckled as I made my way to the sitting room where I knew I would find Holmes at this hour, smoking his pipe as he paced or sat staring at the fire roar. Sure enough, the air was thick with pipe smoke when I entered.

"Ah Watson," Holmes said cheerfully, "I hope that our unexpected guest will make a swift and full recovery?"

"It would seem that way," I said as I lit up my own pipe and joined him by the fire, "Her dog, however, is quite another story. He may not even survive the evening."

"So?" Holmes scoffed, "It is only a brute. She can go out and buy another. Old English sheepdogs are not good for anything but sleeping by the fireplace around these parts. So unless our friend lives in the countryside as a shepherd, I highly doubt the dog is worth much."

"But Holmes," I explained, "She made it quite clear I was to do my best to care for her pet. She would not even let me near her until she was sure I had done everything in my power for her dog."

"It is a strange thing indeed," Holmes said with a disdainful look, "Some people are so blinded by love for others they do not care for themselves."

"Is that not the definition of love?" I asked, frowning, "To care more about the well-being of others than yourself? I'm sure you were in love with someone once, Holmes."

"Never," said Holmes, "Love clouds the mind and causes one to make mistakes. In my career Watson, I cannot afford to make such errors."

I sighed and rose from my chair. On occasions like these, I often wondered if Holmes was human at all.

"Well, nevertheless," I said, putting my pipe out, "The girl obviously cares a great deal about her dog, so much so she worked herself into a faint. I can't even begin to imagine what would happen if her dog did not survive the night. If you need me Holmes, I will be in the kitchen."

"I take it you and Mary have not worked out your disagreement yet?" my friend asked and I sighed.

My wife, Mary, and I had gotten into a rather large argument a week and a half ago. It was something not important, but I had stormed out of the house into the pouring rain and had proceeded to walk all the way to Holmes' apartment and thus, the reason why I caught pneumonia in the first place. Mary had come to the apartment two days after I had left but I had been in a deep sleep thanks to medications. Holmes had told my wife that I needed time away from her to think about things. He had not wanted to worry her with the fact that I was sick.

"No Holmes, I haven't spoken to her since I left the house," I said tiredly. I knew that it was rude that I had not made contact with my wife but I used my illness as an excuse. Now, however, I really had nothing holding me back from discussing the situations with my wife except my pride. I did not like having to admit I was wrong or that it was dumb to have argued with her.

Holmes just nodded and went back to his pipe. I went down the stairs and found the dog asleep where I left him. I pulled up two chairs, one to sit in and the other to rest my feet on, and watched the large dog's chest rise and fall unsteadily. I hoped Death's cold hands would not touch this creature, for the girl's sake and my own.

_Author's Note: Hi everyone! Reviews and constructive criticism are mroe than welcome. I'd love to hear what your thoughts are so far. Thanks! :)_


	2. Chapter 2 Holmes Meets Sherlock

_Author's Note: I wish I owned Sherlock Holmes and the series of short-stories and novels but, alas, I am only a fan who wishes they were the genius that created this sleuth. Enjoy the next chapter!_

Chapter 2 Holmes Meets Sherlock

I awoke with a start and cursed my weariness. Quickly, I bent over the dog and, with much relief, saw his chest rise and fall with more steadiness than when I had fallen asleep. I had just stretched to get the blood flowing in my weary limbs when Mrs. Hudson came rushing down the stairs with a smile on her face.

"She's awake, Doctor!" she said.

I hurried up the stairs and had to pause to catch my breath, as I always had to these days because of my illness, at the top of the stairs. Once I was ready, I entered the room and saw the girl awake, looking blankly at Mrs. Hudson and myself. I went over to her and sat at her side.

"Good morning," I said kindly, "Do you know where you are?"

She looked at me, then the door, and back at me.

"Where is my dog?" she said. Her voice was blank without any trace of emotion, but I could tell she was very worried all the same.

"He is in the kitchen," I said, "We didn't think it was a good idea to move him, he's still very weak."

"Will he live?" the girl asked, sitting up a little in the bed.

"It is still too early to tell," I said gently, "But he is better than last night, so that is a good sign. I am doing everything I can."

"Thank you," she said and managed a smile, "Oh, I'm sorry, please pardon my manners. I forgot to answer your question. I'm at 221B Baker Street, your Dr. Watson, and your Mrs. Hudson," the girl said, looking around me and at a shocked Mrs. Hudson.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, awestruck.

"Dr. Watson said it when he thanked you for getting the supplies," the girl said simply.

She then turned to me and I saw her eyes, framed around her brown hair, were light brown, sharp, and full of intelligence. I remembered when she was standing that she was very tall and slight, at least five foot ten. She was a very pretty girl when she wasn't wearing men's clothing.

"Dr. Watson, are you sure you shouldn't be seeing a doctor as well? The pneumonia has taken a lot out of you," she said concernedly. I started and looked at her wide-eyed.

"How did you know I had pneumonia?" I asked appalled.

"Well," she said with a small smile, "Forgive me if I offend you with anything I say, you are extremely pallid and sweaty, which are signs of a slight fever, even if it does not affect you so much now. Also, you're throat sounds very scratchy and, since I walked through the door, you have been absentmindedly rubbing your throat because it bothers you from the coughing. Finally, when you came up the stairs, you paused to catch your breath. Most, if not all, pneumonia patients develop shortness of breath when exercising, even if it is as easy as walking up a flight of stairs."

I realized my mouth was open in shock and quickly closed it. She smiled and continued.

"Although, if I were you, I wouldn't smoke your pipe until you are fully recovered. It could irritate your throat even more. You have some bits of pipe tobacco on your vest," she added and pointed to the specs of grey on my vest. I realized I hadn't changed since I had smoked with Holmes last evening.

"My goodness," Mrs. Hudson said with a laugh, "She could give Mr. Holmes a run for his money."

"Oh, I wish I were as great as Mr. Holmes," the girl said modestly, frowning, "That is why I was on my way here, I need to speak with Mr. Holmes immediately. It is of great importance that I tell him what has happened."

"You should not leave until you are fully recovered," I said, "And Mr. Holmes is rather busy to take the time to see you now, I am afraid. Perhaps, once you make a full recovery, I could get him to listen to you. Now, I should send a wire to your parents. Could you tell me where they live?"

"You will not find them at the address I give you," the girl said sadly, "My mother died bringing me into the world and my father's the reason why I need to speak to Mr. Holmes."

I looked at Mrs. Hudson, who looked at the girl worriedly.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Seventeen, and I will be eighteen in two months and three days," the girl said.

"What is your name, dear?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Victoria Elizabeth James," she said proudly, "My mother named me after the queen just before she died. She knew when she saw me I would look like royalty when I grew up."

I left the girl in Mrs. Hudson's care and went to check on my other patient. I found him trying to stand up on his four paws. He growled when I entered and I backed away quickly. The dog finally got to his paws, limped over to me, sniffed my trouser leg, and licked my hand. I knelt down to get a good look at his wounds and he put his right paw on my right arm.

"Oh, it is a pleasure to meet you too," I said with a laugh and shook his paw.

The wound was healing nicely so I felt safe leaving the dog alone for a while. I found Holmes sitting by the fire, tinkering with his chemicals.

"Good morning Watson!" Holmes said joyfully as I sat in an armchair and pulled out my pipe. Then remembering what Miss James had said, I hastily stowed it away in my pocket.

"Holmes," I said as he weighed a white powder, "Dare I ask how you knew our guest was a woman?"

"In the back, I noticed some longer strands falling out of the cap," said Holmes as he put the powder in a liquid and watched it dissolve, "They were too long to be a man's so I knew it had to be a woman."

"She is a strange one at that," I said and chuckled, "Did you know she knew instantly I was recovering from pneumonia and I smoked a pipe? And she remembered me thanking Mrs. Hudson, therefore remembering her name? It gave Mrs. Hudson quite a scare."

"Really?" said Holmes but I knew he wasn't interested in what I had to say. Sure, he heard what I had said. He heard everything even if it did not look like he did. But, if a piece of information was not useful for him, he threw it away and forgot about it.

We spent a good two hours discussing Holmes' other cases. It was clear Holmes was feeling pressured by the police to find the criminals quickly.

"As if they understand what I do!" he exclaimed, "They have no clue how much precision and thought goes into finding a criminal!"

I nodded as he continued his ranting. Eventually, he sighed and leaned back in his seat.

"Hand me my violin, will you Watson?"

I did as he requested and listened to him as he played. He used his musical skills to help him think when he was stuck. It was better than his other option: cocaine. His sleeves were rolled up and, as he played, I could see the puncture marks up and down his forearms. I hated when he used it, knowing it was killing him slowly but surely. I pleaded with him to wean away from it, but he just ignored me.

There was a commotion downstairs. It sounded like a door had been banged open and there were heavy steps climbing up the stairwell. I stood up and opened the door, seeing a white and grey blur go by, barking.

"Oh no, bad dog!" I shouted, running to keep up with the dog but, being as weak as I was, I had no chance of catching him. Holmes, on the other hand, was very athletic and was able to tackle the dog. The animal let out a cry of pain and a door opened to reveal Miss James, looking happy and worried at the same time.

"Sherlock!" she shouted and both dog and man looked at her.

"I beg your pardon?" Holmes asked as the dog broke free of his grip and ran at the girl, licking her face as she laughed.

"Sherlock, you're all right!" Miss James said, hugging her dog's neck, "Oh I knew you were made of tougher stuff than those bullets!"

"I'm sorry," Holmes asked, looking at the dog and the girl, "But who are you talking to?"

"Who do you think?" the girl asked, looking at Holmes annoyed, "And what were you thinking, tackling my dog? He is injured! He was just trying to find me because he was worried."

I finally managed to get up the final stairway, puffing as I did, but I had heard everything. Holmes was completely taken aback by Miss James' comment that I had to laugh.

"Don't you see Holmes?" I asked in between chuckles, "She named her dog after you."

"I do not know whether to be flattered or concerned," my friend said and Miss James frowned at him.

"Come, come my dear," Mrs. Hudson said, helping Miss James to her feet, "Time to get back into your bed. Yes, the dog can come as well."

"Mr. Holmes," Miss James said, turning back to my friend, "I would like to have a word with you when I am better. It is of the greatest importance."

"Watson will let me know when you are ready and I shall like to hear your story," Mr. Holmes said and left.

I followed Miss James into the room. Once she was settled in the bed, she patted the sheets and Sherlock, the dog, hopped up and curled into a circle by his mistress' side. I once again checked the girl's wound.

"Dr. Watson," she asked as I looked over her dog again as well, "Is Mr. Holmes any good at the violin?"

"Why yes, he is actually," I said, looking at her curiously, "How did you know he could play? Could you hear him play downstairs?" I had thought the sound would have not been able to travel all the way up here.

"No sir," she said, "I saw the rosin dust on his jacket. Why does he use drug needles?"

"He uses cocaine to help him think," I said dryly, "And I know how you figured that out, by the markings on his arms." She nodded and I continued, "That is his more extreme form of help. Most of the time, he plays his violin."

I left the girl and dog and went to my room. Mrs. Hudson promised to watch over the girl and dog so I could catch up on my sleep. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was sound asleep.

_Author's Note: Please tell me what you all think. I love reviews and constructive criticism so feel free to tell me what you like/dislike about it. This is my first Sherlock Holmes story so any advice is greatly appreciated. Thank you! _


	3. Chapter 3 Our Visitor Tells Her Story

_Author's Note: I don't own Sherlock Holmes, that honor belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Enjoy this chapter!_

Chapter 3 Our Visitor Tells Her Story

Miss James was complete healed in a few days. She said it was due to my amazing ability in medicine, which caused me to turn quite a dark shade of red. Even Sherlock was better in a few weeks time (when I refer to Sherlock, I mean the dog. Holmes is the man.). Mrs. Hudson came back one day with some clothes for Miss James seeing as her old ones were too stained with blood to wear anymore. When she opened the boxes, she thanked Mrs. Hudson excessively, but I could tell she wasn't too fond of the dresses. I asked her about it when Mrs. Hudson went to bring up some tea and she sighed.

"It's not just these dresses, they're actually quite nice. It's dresses in general I'm not very fond of. My father thought it did not matter what a woman wore and therefore, since I felt more comfortable in men's clothes, he did not force me to wear dresses unless the occasion arose."

She scratched Sherlock behind the ears and watched he wagged his tail happily as she continued, "He was not very popular among his group of friends to be sure, but he knew I was an intelligent individual and believed in me. For that, he was ostracized and ridiculed but he never minded. He always told me, "I do not care what they say about me but if they mock and ridicule you, they will have to answer to me"."

"He seemed to love you very much," I said gently.

"Indeed, we were all each other had," she said quietly, "Now it is just Sherlock and I."

Not knowing what to say, I left the room so she could put the new clothes on and re-entered when she called me back. She looked at me nervously as she looked in the mirror. I thought she had no reason to be nervous. She looked amazing, although still pale from her ordeal.

"Is this all right?" she asked worriedly.

"Yes it is," I said and held out my arm for her. She grabbed a small notepad on her bedside table and took my arm, but Sherlock budded his way between us. "Terribly sorry, my friend," I said with a laugh, "She is all yours!"

Miss James smiled at me and I showed her the way to our sitting room. Holmes was out at the time, working on another case, so we waited there for him to return. Suddenly, Miss James looked up at me with her mouth open, but she stopped and turned away.

"Is something the matter?" I asked.

"Well sir," she said slowly and I could tell she was choosing her words carefully, "I was only wondering if you and your wife had resolved your disagreement yet."

I stared at the young woman in shock. For a couple moments, I was unable to answer and just blinked. Finally, I managed to find my voice.

"I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about," I said but she just raised her eyebrows at me.

"Forgive me Doctor, but it is painfully obvious," she said, "You fiddle constantly with your ring and stare at it thoughtfully. It is obvious you are married, yet you never mention your wife. There is no sign of a woman's touch in these apartments so it is obvious these are the rooms of a bachelor. And then of course, Mrs. Hudson left a letter from your wife by my bed one night and I happened to come across it."

"Oh," was all I could say at first. We fell into silence for some time until I finally said, "What did the letter say?"

"She misses you terribly," Miss James said earnestly, "She says the argument was silly and wishes you would talk to her. She has not heard from you in weeks. I take it you did not mention your illness her?" I shook my head and she continued, "I thought not, she did not mention it in the letter. She is extremely worried about you."

I nodded and silence fell over us again. My mind swirled with thoughts about my wife. I did really miss her, but it was impossible for me to leave Holmes now. At any moment, he could become bored and return to the cocaine bottle. While the minutes ticked on, Miss James' sharp eyes fell on Holmes' violin. She looked around and picked it up gently, taking the bow as well and running it across the strings.

"Miss James-"

"Victoria is fine."

"Victoria," I said worriedly, looking around, "Mr. Holmes does not like others touching his violin. I think you should put it back."

"Can I just play one song?" she asked, looking at the violin with eagerness, "It has such a beautiful sound. It will be quick, I promise."

"Well…very well, but do it quickly," I said, looking around once more.

She placed the violin on her shoulder and under her chin, raised the bow, and played. The sound that came out of that violin wasn't music, it was magic. She played with such eagerness, such love, that it showed in the music she produced. I could not resist asking her to play on when she stopped and she continued willingly. Victoria played well-known songs, as well as some I still believe she made up on the spot. The mixture was very entertaining and when she played the last note, I clapped enthusiastically.

"That was incredible!" I cried, "Who taught you to play?"

"No one did, I taught myself," she said, resting the violin on her knee expertly, "However, I have not played the violin in almost five years. My father had one, but we had to sell it so we could pay the rent."

She raised the violin again and was about to play when her face went paler that it already was and she lowered it slowly. I turned around and saw Holmes watching her with an angry look.

"Watson," he said, still looking at Victoria, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Holmes, I-"

"It's my fault sir," Victoria said, rising to her feet and walking towards Holmes, "I saw it and wanted to see if I could still play. Dr. Watson had nothing to do with it, sir, he even told me not to."

She handed the violin back to its owner and backed away. However, the entire time she never bowed her head in shame, but held it high and looked at Holmes directly in the eye. Holmes raised the violin and began to play, sweet music filling the room. Victoria watched with fascination as Holmes fingers flew across the instrument. When he finished, he put the violin back in its rightful place and sat down in his seat.

"It is a shame you cannot play it anymore," he said in a bored voice and Victoria frowned at him, "Now, what was it that was so pressing you had to speak to me? I am a very busy man, you know."

"Yes, I gathered that," she said coldly as she opened her notepad, "Which is why I outlined everything that happened for you. I have times, descriptions, and even a little map of my home."

She ripped out the pages and handed them to my friend, who put them aside, not even looking at them. This seemed to make her quite angry, but she kept her temper as she patted Sherlock on the head.

"The night I arrived here, which was the 21st of November, my father was kidnapped by someone-" she started.

"Enough!" Holmes said, rising to his feet, "I do not think you understand what it is exactly that I do. I help solve crimes, not find misplaced fathers!"

"You make it sound as though my father is something you can pick up and take with you!" Victoria said, rising to her feet as well, "He may not be a foreign dignitary or a member of the Royal Family, but he's my father and I need to find him! Without him, you would not even be in business! He used to tell anyone who needed help to ask the great Sherlock Holmes for advice because he is the best detective in all of London, even Scotland Yard asks for his advice!"

"This is all very-"

"I'm not finished yet!" she said over Holmes, who looked outraged, as I cringed slightly at her boldness, "At night, my father would read me the papers about the solved crimes. He had an old army friend in the police force who used to tell him what really happened, about how you were the one to solve the crimes, not those pompous fools who took all the credit. He used to say that you never minded, otherwise you would have done something about it. No, you solved crimes because it was something you loved. Now I see the truth, you're an arrogant, self-centered fool who does not care who you hurt as long as you get paid to buy cocaine or tobacco!"

"How dare you?" Holmes said, shaking with rage, "Get out of here this instant!"

"Fine!" said Victoria, "Come on Sherlock, we'll just find the Professor ourselves."

She turned on her heel and stormed off. But just before reaching the door, she turned to me with a smile.

"Thank you Dr. Watson," she said kindly, "For everything you did for us. At least there are _some_ kind people in this place. Be sure to give Mrs. Hudson my thanks and good-byes for me."

She closed the door loudly and I heard her go down the stairs. I looked at Holmes angrily, and saw he was staring off in his own world.

"You are really horrid sometimes," I said furiously, "That poor girl has never done anything to you and you do not even give her a chance to explain her situation!"

"Yes," said Holmes as he went to his desk and began pulling out newspaper clippings, "Yes, you are right."

"You are not even listening to me, Holmes!" I cried.

"On the contrary Watson, I hear more than you know," said Holmes, looking at me with wide eyes, "She has not left yet and we need to make sure she does not take one step out of this apartment! Hurry Watson, we haven't a moment to lose!"

He ripped open the door and sprinted down the stairs as I struggled to follow. We reached the downstairs hallway to find Victoria and Sherlock saying their final good-byes to Mrs. Hudson. We were making such racket that both women and the dog looked up the stairs at us.

"You must not leave!" said Holmes, standing in front of the door, "Your life is at risk if you do."

"Oh, so now you wish to help me?" Victoria asked, slipping by Holmes and going to the door, "Well, your services are no longer required. Good day, Mr. Holmes."

She opened the door and had not even stepped out when gunshots were heard and she closed the door quickly as a bullet hit the door frame above her head.

"Then again," she said, leaning against the door, "Maybe a little help would be beneficial."

So Holmes, Victoria, Sherlock, and I went up to the sitting room and Victoria told us her story.

"It was the 21st of November when my father was taken," she said, "We had dinner at six-thirty and he came to read to me from the papers at eight. The time in between, he liked to tinker with his inventions. We talked until nine and then he told me to go to sleep.

"At exactly twelve thirteen, I awoke to hear a knock at the door. I checked the time when I awoke," she added, seeing our raised eyebrows, "My father stumbled out of his room, which was right across the hall from Sherlock's and mine. He opened the door and I crept to the top of the stairs to see who it was.

"The man was built like a wardrobe with large, square shoulders and thick arms and legs. He told my father 'The Professor' wanted him to take my father to this man. My father said he did not know anyone called The Professor and snapped at the man for waking us up. He tried to close the door but the man held it open and pushed his way in. My father tried to fight the man off, but the intruder was too large and he easily dragged my father off.

"I quickly threw on clothes, grabbed my hat, and sprinted after them, Sherlock at my heels as I pulled my hair up in the hat. I did not want the people thinking I was a girl. There was a hansom waiting at the top of our street and I managed to ride on the back as they took off. I knew I could not do anything alone and I thought of Mr. Holmes. If there was any man in London who could help me, it was him. So I jumped off the back of the hansom, but when Sherlock tried to, the hansom lurched and the driver looked behind him. Unfortunately, so did the large man. I sprinted off with my dog and I heard men getting out of the hansom to follow us. I turned down a street, I realize now it was actually Baker Street. Two of the shots hit Sherlock and one grazed my side. I fell down so they would think they killed me and I heard them go back to the hansom. Then, I picked up Sherlock and went to the nearest home and knocked on the door. The rest you know."

"Was there anything special about the intruder?" Holmes asked, as he looked over the notepad papers Victoria had given him earlier.

"I was far away so I did not see much, it was also dark. Give me a moment though, I might be able to remember some things," she said, closing her eyes as she thought, "He had to waddle a little when he walked on account of his size, his shoes were custom made, also because of his size, and his skin was white. His eyes were grey and he had horrible teeth when he smiled, which was evil enough without the jagged mouth."

"That is enough for now," said Holmes as he thought, "These notes are very detailed. This will make things easier."

"Thank you," said Victoria with a small smile, "So, you are going to help me then?"

"Yes, this is an interesting case."

"What caused you to change your mind?" she asked curiously.

"You mentioned The Professor," said Holmes darkly, "He is an old nemesis of mine."

"You don't mean to say," I said with horror, "That Professor Moriarty is alive? Impossible, he fell over the edge with you!"

"Yet, here I am," said Holmes with a sigh, "He must have found a way. This time, however, I will make sure he is finished forever."

_Author's Note: Hi everyone! I'd really like to hear what you think of the story so far. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated but please remember this is my first Holmes story. If there are small spelling or grammatical errors, I do apologize. I always re-read my chapters and look for things like that but I'm only human. I'm more concerned with what you think of the plot than of my grammar or spelling. If you don't have any CC, just hearing you like the story tells me to keep going with this. Thanks to all who have reviewed and those who haven't, I promise the review button won't bite you if you press it! :)_


	4. Chapter 4 Scotland Yard Lends a Hand

_Author's Note: I know, I know! I don't own Sherlock Holmes or Dr. Watson or any of Doyle's characters. I wish I did though…_

Chapter 4 Scotland Yard Lends a Hand

Even with the detailed notes that Victoria provided, Holmes was nowhere close to finding the missing father after a week of searching and pacing. Holmes went to the house for an investigation while I stayed at home with Victoria. I had not felt well that morning and was told to stay home so I could rest.

"You look like a living corpse," my friend told me with a small smile as he left the house.

"I could say the same thing about you Holmes," I called out to him as he left and heard him chuckle. But I was right, Holmes looked just as bad as I felt. I knew he wasn't sleeping well since Victoria told us of her father's disappearance. I could tell this case was important to Holmes. He wanted Moriarty to be dead just as much as, in my opinion, Moriarty wanted Holmes dead. Finally one day, while Victoria read with her dog at her feet and I smoked my pipe, for I could not stop smoking for very long, Holmes discontinued his pacing about the room.

"I'm afraid I have no choice," he muttered and all three of us looked at him. Sherlock was the smartest dog I had ever met and always watched a speaker with as much interest and intelligence as his mistress.

"You are not going to stop the case, are you?" Victoria asked.

"No, no," said Holmes, waving a hand at her, "The case will continue, but I am afraid I must have the assistance of Scotland Yard. But I shall need a new man for the job, I'm tired of Lestrade and Gregson making fools of themselves. I need someone who will listen to my advice for once."

He took his hat off the stand, put on his jacket hastily, and went out the back door. Ever since Victoria was almost shot, we had been using the back door to go in and out of the building.

Eventually, Victoria left with Sherlock to take him for a walk. She would pull her hair up and hide it in Mrs. Hudson's old hat. The hat was also able to cover her face if she kept her head down. I did not approve of this but she began to get antsy and I eventually agreed, although reluctantly.

"Besides," she said the first time she got ready to leave, "Those men first saw me dressed as a man and only a brief flash of me in a dress."

Still, I would pace the room nervously until she returned. This time, however, it was not Victoria who first came up the stairs. The door opened and Holmes entered with a young man at his side. The stranger could not have been over twenty and had dark brown hair with bright, eager green eyes that were looking around the room and taking everything in. He was tall, although not as tall as Holmes was, and had a muscular build.

"Watson, this is Detective George Phillips," said Holmes as I shook hands with the eager man, "He will be assisting us with our case."

"A pleasure to meet you, Detective," I said with a smile, "Our witness is out at the moment, but will be returning soon. Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you sir," Phillips said and sat down on the couch, watching us all with fascination, "When Mr. Holmes asked for my assistance, I surely thought it was one of my partners making a joke. You are a legend in the detective world, Mr. Holmes."

"You flatter me," said Holmes as he lit his pipe, "How old are you, Detective? You look quite young to be in this field."

"I will be nineteen at the end of the month," Phillips said with a smile, "I studied under both Lestrade and Gregson for quite some time until I finally decided to work for myself. I know they are friends of yours sir-"

"Is that what they are saying?" chuckled Holmes, "No dear boy, we are not friends in the least. Continue please."

"Well, in that case," said Phillips, looking relieved, "I actually left their services because I did not like how they worked, or their attitude towards those they deemed inferior. I have a friend who managed to pull a few strings and here I am today, working along side the same men who sneered at my suggestions."

I heard the back door open and let out a sigh of relief. There was a pause, a growling sound, and I heard heavy paws running up the stairs. Sherlock burst into the room and began growling at the new detective. Soon, Victoria followed, her hair falling out from the run up, and knelt down by her dog.

"I am terrible sorry," she said, holding her dog by a rope collar, "He is not fond of strangers, he just needs to get used to your scent."

She looked up at the detective for the first time and I thought I saw her eyes widen just a little in surprise. She rose to her feet and smiled warmly at him. Phillips seemed to have forgotten that he had to introduce himself so I did it for him.

"Victoria, this is Detective George Phillips. Holmes brought him on the case. Detective, this is the victim's daughter, Miss Victoria James."

"A pleasure to meet you, Detective," Victoria said with a small curtsey, "I hope that you along with Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson can find my father soon."

"I should like to, Miss James," he said, clearing his throat, "But I think I need to hear the story first."

Holmes and I sat in the armchairs by the fire while the young people sat on the couch. Victoria related her story once more and the detective listened, nodding at the right moments and frowning when he did not understand something. Victoria, being as observant as she was, would explain herself better when the young detective did this. When she had finished, he looked at Holmes with a grim look on his face.

"This is a complicated one," he said, "Have you any leads? Any idea who this 'Professor' is?"

"We know who committed the crime," said Holmes and Phillips raised his eyebrows, "Our only problem is finding him. As I have explained to you earlier, we are confined to the house because of men waiting to shoot our young guest here as soon as she were to open the door."

"Well, who is it?"

"A Professor Moriarty," I said gravely.

"Moriarty…I thought he was dead!" said Phillips astounded, "I thought he died when we thought you had as well."

"He must have survived, just as I did," said Holmes grimly, "And now he is back to his first love: crime."

"Is there any motive?" the detective asked, and turned to Victoria, "What would a man want with your father?"

"Nothing to my knowledge," she said, thinking hard, "He does odd jobs around the city so maybe they want him to try and steal something. He is also an inventor when he is not working. My father was not well liked, but I do not think someone would kidnap him because he believed in letting me have freedom in my own home."

"What invention was he working on?" Phillips asked.

"He was only tinkering with the idea of a machine that could transport people," she said with a shrug, "Nothing catastrophic such as new kinds of weapons."

"How did this machine work?" I asked curiously.

"He did not tell me much, but from the drawings it had four wheels and used petals to make it stop and go. And it ran on an engine that was fueled by gasoline."

We sat in silence for some time, each thinking our own thoughts. Finally, Holmes stood up and began pacing. Victoria scratched Sherlock behind the ears, causing the dog to let out a groan and lay its head on her lap. The dog was fine now that he, just like Victoria had said, had gotten used to Phillips' scent.

"I think," Phillips said slowly, "That we should try and track the intruder. Maybe he could lead us to Moriarty."

"How?" I asked, "He is somewhere out there amongst the millions of people in this city."

"Or," Victoria said with a sly smile, "Maybe we could get one of those shooters who are waiting outside our doorstep."

Then Holmes did a most extraordinary thing, he genuinely smiled at Victoria. Now, in all the years I have known Holmes, I have never seen him do that unless he was alone with me, and even then it was quite a rare occasion to be celebrated.

"An excellent idea," he said and I could tell his wheels were turning, "I think I have just the plan to do that."

"Are you quite sure this will work, Holmes?" I asked as I finished loading my pistol.

"Of course it will!" he exclaimed with excitement, "Now come Watson, we haven't a moment to lose."

Both of us were dressed as street loafers with dirty faces and patched knees. Victoria was to join us too, much to my arguments of her being recognized. Our job was to stand in front of the bushes across the road and block the view of the shooters when Phillips, dressed as a woman much to his displeasure, came out of the house. We would see where the shooters were, grab them, and drag them into the house for questioning.

As we were walking down the stairs, we heard laughter and poked our heads over the banister to see a very filthy Victoria laughing merrily at the detective, who was in a long dress and had a wide-brimmed hat on.

"It is not that funny," he muttered, turning bright red.

"Oh come now," said Victoria through fits of laughter, "It is quite hilarious! To see someone as masculine as yourself in women's clothes is the funniest thing I have ever seen."

I think, if possible, Phillips turned redder.

"I think it is time we put our dear detective out of his misery, wouldn't you say Watson?" said Holmes with a grin and started walking in place, his steps growing louder and began to actually walk. The laugher ceased in an instant as we appeared.

"Are we all assembled? Do we know what we are doing? Excellent, let us go then," said Holmes.

"Now Sherlock," said Victoria, bending down to her sheepdog, "You stay here with Mrs. Hudson."

The dog wined and licked his owner's hand. She patted his head and snuck out the backdoor behind the two of us. We cut through the houses until we came to a street next to our own. Then we began walking, chatting occasionally to one another as we did so until we reached Baker Street and stopped right across from 221B. As we pretended to not be interested in our surroundings as we talked, I saw out of the corner of my eye Phillips open the door. In an instant, there was a rustling in the bushes and we attacked.

By the end of our scuffle, one man lay dead while two others were captured, one being held by Holmes and the other Victoria. I was amazed by the young woman's strength seeing as the man was twice her size.

"Good show Holmes!" said Phillips, racing across the street to aid Victoria, who shook his hand away.

"It's fine Detective, I've got this scoundrel. Come on you!" she said angrily as she forced him across the road and into the house where Mrs. Hudson was waiting with handcuffs.

_Author's Note: I hope you like this chapter. I wanted to let you all know that I'm going away until July 6__th__ so there won't be any updates until then. I might be able to update tomorrow but in case I can't, I hope the double update today will make up for it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love hearing what you like and dislike about the chapter! I promise to update as soon as I get back. While I'm gone, I would love to hear what you think of this so far._


	5. Chapter 5 The Plot Thickens

_Author's Note: I'm back! I wish I owned Sherlock Holmes but then I would be Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and that would be weird…_

Chapter 5 The Plot Thickens

Once the men were cuffed, we led them up the stairs into the sitting room, where they were roughly shoved onto the ground. Sherlock had rejoined his mistress and was snarling at the men, causing them to back away with fright.

"I think you are better off telling us who you are and why you were waiting to shoot us than not," said Holmes calmly as he lit up his pipe.

With that calm threat and the fact Sherlock chose that time to snap at one man's foot, the larger of the men broke down completely. The other was still surprisingly calm.

"Please govn'r," the one man said, who was the taller and larger of the two, "We didn't mean no harm, we was just doin' what we was told, hones'ly."

"And who told you to shoot an innocent woman?" said Phillips angrily.

"The Professor," the same man said, frightened, "He said we'd get paid double what we was makin' before. But you," the man pointed a dirty finger at Victoria, "He's coming for you. And when the Professor wants something, he finds a way to get it."

"Do you know where he is?" Phillips asked, stepping protectively in front of Victoria.

"No one does," the other man said suddenly. Holmes, who had been staring at the wall with unfocused eyes, looked up instantly and turned to the man. He frowned, got on his knees, and looked at the man carefully.

"Well, well, it seems we have another woman who enjoys dressing like a man," said Holmes, "What brings you here today Irene?"

The person in question smiled sweetly and took off her hat so her auburn hair fell past her shoulders and down her back. It was Irene Adler.

"It's good to see you too Holmes," she said, "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by."

"You were in the bushes with men who were attempting to kill this young lady," said Holmes, pointing to Victoria, "Are you working for the Professor now?"

"And I thought you knew me better Holmes, you know the only person I work for is myself."

"Indeed I do, but I believe even you would be willing to work for someone if it benefitted yourself. So I will ask you again, are you working for the Professor now?"

"He asked me to keep an eye on the two men, unfortunately you killed the other one. But no, I am not working officially for the Professor. He prefers men for his line of work. I am just the babysitter for once."

"Some might call that an accessory for attempted murder," said Phillips icily.

Irene turned her attention to Phillips, looked him up and down, and smiled.

"Scotland Yard's finest, and he is cute too. Where did you find him Holmes?" she asked, "I like him better than Lestrade. It was painful having to open the paper and see that man's face on the front cover."

"Tell us what you know Irene," said Holmes as though he had not heard her previous statements, "You really have no choice, unless you would prefer to spend the rest of your years in a cell? I'm sure Detective Phillips could arrange that."

"I told you, I do not work for Professor Moriarty. I do not know anything about him or his plans."

"How about this man?" Victoria asked, holding up a sketch that was in her notepad. She had spent time racking her brains to get enough details to draw a picture of him. Her face was paler than usual, the only sign that she was frightened by the man's earlier words.

"We know him," the larger man said with a series of nods. He was probably hoping to also get out of a long prison sentence. "He helps the Professor with jobs. He lives in a flat not far from here."

We got Irene and the man to tell us everything they knew, after many round-about questions that is. Once that was done, Phillips tied them to chairs. We padlocked the door and went into Holmes' study for time to think. Finally, Phillips said he must return home and left. Victoria showed the young detective the way out with Sherlock at her side. While they were gone, Holmes had a thoughtful expression on his face.

"This case is quite different, is it not Watson?" he asked as he puffed his pipe.

"It is Holmes," I replied, "But I do believe it has something to do with our extraordinary victim. Did you see how she held that man's arms behind him? Although, I believe she was holding Irene but nevertheless Irene is not easy to hold back."

"Yes, she is quite a different woman," mused Holmes, "Her mother, you said, died in childbirth?"

"Yes," I said sadly, "It is a horrible thing for a girl to grow up without a mother's love or advice. Yet she seems to have done well, even if she is a little different."

"A little?" Holmes asked with a smirk, "She is bold and has never learned the art of holding her tongue. I can only hope it will not lead her into danger. However, Detective Phillips does not seem to mind. Let us hope his new-found love for our victim does not cloud his decision making."

Holmes scanned through the notes once more and rubbed his long fingers over his forehead.

"These notes are quite detailed, come look Watson," said Holmes and I looked them over. Everything from the color of her father's shirts to the drawings of their home was precise.

"She obviously wants to help you, Holmes," I said, handing the notes back to my friend, who wore a troubled expression, "You should be rejoicing! I do not know how many times I have heard you complain of your clients not giving you all the appropriate information. And yet, this girl gives you everything and more and you look so solemn."

"It frustrates me that, with all this data, I cannot solve this mystery!" said Holmes.

I suggested to him that he retire for the evening and let his mind rest. After all, the prisoners were not going anywhere. He agreed, if not reluctantly, and we all went off to bed. As Victoria was heading to her room, I stopped her.

"Victoria, may I ask you something?" She nodded for me to continue so I said, "When we found you, you were wearing men's clothing and told us you always had. Then we find Irene dressed as a man as well. I was wondering why women detest wearing what is in style?"

"Because what is in style is quite painful," said Victoria with a smile, "Being a man, you have never had to wear a corset so imagine someone is squeezing your waist so tight that you cannot breathe. Dresses provide us with restricted movements and I cannot tell you how many times I have almost tripped on the hem of these dresses. Miss Adler was dressed for disguise while I was dressed for comfort. Think of me what you will Dr. Watson, but I did not wish to stop living my life because I grew up and had to become a lady with all the restrictions it entailed."

"But many women live happy lives under the "restrictions"," I said, "They don't see them as overbearing rules."

"Unfortunately doctor, I am not like many women," she said sadly, "I enjoy putting my brain to the test instead of letting others tell me what to do. It's late Dr. Watson and I am rather tired. Sleep well."

We said good night and went our separate ways. As I lay there, I could not will myself to fall asleep. Something was bothering me about our interrogation of Irene and the other man. It seemed so easy to get the information out of them, even though we used round about methods to do so. A nagging voice in the back of my mind told me to be careful but I just shook my head and cleared these thoughts. I was just tired, that was all. Once I was well rested, I would contemplate this further in the morning. I never expected what would happen the next morning when I awoke.

I was awake early in the morning, around four o' clock. I spent the time until breakfast reading in my room for fear of waking the house. As I read, I heard soft footsteps going down the stairs and the door close. I assumed Victoria had decided to take Sherlock out for an early walk.

Stretching, I went into the study to find two envelops on the table, one addressed to me and the other to Holmes. It was Victoria's handwriting. Frowning, I opened the letter and this is what I read.

_Dear Dr. Watson,_

_I do not know how I can ever repay you for the services you and your medical bag have done for us. Because of you, my dearest friend is alive today to run and play. I thank you most greatly for that._

_By the time you receive this letter, I will probably be long gone. After what that man said, I realize I am putting you all in mortal danger. I cannot let that happen, not after everything you all have done for Sherlock and I. I think with the information we gathered I can find my father by myself._

_I know Mr. Holmes will be angry with me for leaving, but I feel I must. Please make sure he gets his own letter as well as Mrs. Hudson. Hers is in the kitchen. Once again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the kindness you have shown me._

_Your grateful client,_

_Victoria Elizabeth James_

_P.S- I am sorry to inform you that your prisoners escaped during the night. I found the door ajar while I was packing my belongings._

"Oh dear," I said and walked across the hall to the sitting room. There was no one inside and the handcuffs were placed neatly on the chairs. I then rushed as fast as I could up the stairs and opened the girl's room. The bed was carefully made and everything was freshly cleaned.

I heard footsteps behind me and saw Mrs. Hudson huffing up the stairs and she stood beside me, looking at the clean scene. It was like no one had lived here at all.

"She really has gone!" said Mrs. Hudson, the letter in her hand shaking, "Oh the poor girl, she should not have done that."

I led Mrs. Hudson to the bed so she could sit, for she looked like she would faint in an instant. I took the letter from her and read it through. It said almost the same thing as mine, thanking her for her help and kindness. There were also wonderful compliments on her cooking, her cheerfulness, and love of the dog. No mention was made of the prisoners' escape.

"Has Mr. Holmes found out yet?" Mrs. Hudson asked, wiping her eyes.

"No, but there is a letter for him as well," I said with a heavy sigh, "He will find out soon enough. I would prefer he find out while I take a walk. I need to think about everything."

So I took my jacket, my hat, and went out the back for a nice walk through the streets of London. It was still early in the morning so the streets were not as crowded as usual. I went to a park and sat on a bench while people passed me with friends or dogs. Every time I saw a dog, I thought of Victoria and Sherlock. Where were they now? How was she to find her father when Holmes was unable to? Holmes had been right; her boldness and belief in her own deductive reasoning skills had made her feel confident enough to leave the safety of the Baker Street apartments.

And what about Irene and the man? How had they managed to escape? I would not have been surprised if Irene managed to pick the lock with a hair pin or something. It was actually quite comical: the only woman Holmes was crazy about was a world-class criminal.

Shaking my head, I rose to my feet and made my way back. As I walked through the door, I braced myself for Holmes' ranting and raving as I walked up to our sitting room. I opened the door to find Holmes sitting with his back to me by the fire, the letter in his hands. He did not move when I entered or when I sat down beside him. His eyes were glazed as he stared at the flames.

"Holmes?" I asked quietly but even still he started when I spoke.

"I am terribly sorry Watson," my friend said, shaking his head slightly, "How long have you been there trying to get my attention?"

"I have only just arrived," I said, "I see you have been reading the note Victoria wrote for us?"

"Yes indeed I have," said Holmes with a sigh, "It was very foolish for her to leave. Now Moriarty will not have to lift a finger to find her, he has eyes and ears all over this city. Her overconfidence in herself has led to this. I deduce she will be found within the day. As for our prisoners, somehow I knew they would not be here in the morning. I should have stayed up and stood guard but there is nothing we can do about that now."

"We must find her, Holmes!" I cried, "Before that fiend does! Have you contacted Phillips about the matter?"

"No, and I regret to say I am not looking forward to that event. But, there is no time like the present. Come Watson, let us be the bearers of this bad news."

Within ten minutes, we were sitting in front of Phillips with the letters. Phillips was obviously surprised by Victoria's sudden departure and was worried.

"We must find her as soon as possible," he said as he handed the letter back to Holmes, "We should go to the address those criminals gave us and find the intruder. Maybe he could lead us to Moriarty."

"It cannot hurt our chances," said Holmes, pulling out the pistol he had brought the day before, "It would be best if we left now, can you do that Phillips?"

"Yes Mr. Holmes," said the young man, taking his jacket and his gun and following us out onto the London streets.

"Holmes," I said quietly as we walked, "Are you really going to trust anything Irene told us?"

"It is our only lead Watson," my friend replied heavily, "And we did come prepared for a fight."

"But this is madness!" I continued and I felt the same warning sensation I did last night, "We know nothing about this place, we are going to be entering without any prior knowledge of this man's daily habits. For all we know, he could be there when we arrive! All I am saying Holmes is that this is not like you. You always carefully plan things about before acting. Please do not let your affections for Irene be your downfall."

Holmes stopped, turned to me, and put his hand on my shoulder in a brotherly fashion.

"Watson, old chap, trust me when I say that I know exactly what it is I am doing. I thank you for your kind thoughts though, they mean a lot to me." I nodded and felt the cool metal of my pistol in my pocket. I really hoped I could trust my friend this time.

We walked for a good half an hour before we reached the street where the wardrobe man was supposed to be residing. We loaded our weapons and walked down the street, looking for the appropriate number. When we located it, Holmes stood in front of the lock and then stepped away, the door slightly open.

"How did you-?"

"No time for questions, I'm afraid," said Holmes to the detective and I noticed his tone was agitated.

We followed my companion into the residence and saw it was very dark and dilapidated. As we walked, I heard water dripping from the pipes and the scurrying of mice. I also heard scuffling upstairs, like someone was struggling.

Holmes evidently heard it too with his trained ears. He held one long finger to his lips and pointed to the steps.

"Watson, come with me. Phillips, stay down here and keep a sharp eye."

I followed Homes up the stairs as quietly as those old stairs would allow. We reached a long hallway and found a light coming from one of the doors. Holmes crept like a ghost to the door and peered in, I right behind him.

Victoria was tied to a chair while her dog lay bound on the floor. Both were gagged but Victoria was struggling to break free from her binds. I had to smile, that did not surprise me in the least. She was looking around the room with those calculating eyes, trying desperately to find something to aid her. There appeared to be no one else in the room.

Holmes entered the room and Victoria's eyes widened. She seemed to relax knowing there was someone to help her. My companion untied the girl and pulled the gag out. She then got up shakily and undid her dog's binds.

"Where is the wardrobe man?" Holmes asked in a quiet whisper.

"He's not here," said Victoria in the same voice, "He always leaves at noon for a drink and comes back barely able to hold himself up. Thank heavens you are here! We must leave before the Professor and that woman return."

"He's here?" I asked in quiet shock.

"Yes, I am."

We spun around and saw the infamous undead Professor Moriarty standing in the doorway next to Irene Adler. He snapped his fingers and the wardrobe man, who was fully sober, dragged an unconscious Phillips into the room with us. Victoria let out a gasp and went to run to the detective, but Holmes held her back, staring angrily at his archenemy.

_Author's Note: Gasp, what will happen next? I know but you'll have to wait for my next update to see…hehe I'm so evil! So, what did you think? Does this make up for me being gone for so long? I love to hear from my readers so tell me what you think. Was it awesome, pretty good, mediocre, or just plain horrible? I was told that Victoria was a bit too perfect so I've been trying to bring out the bad characteristics in her, such as her over-boldness and cockiness. Tell me if you like it or not. Remember, the review button isn't as scary as it looks! :)_


	6. Chapter 6 Truths Are Told

_Author's Note: I don't own Sherlock Holmes or any of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's characters. I wish I did though, does that count for something? No? You make me sad, so be it!_

Chapter 6 Truths Are Told

"I am so glad you could join us, Mr. Holmes," Moriarty said with a cold smile, "Then again, I knew you would come. I think you know why as well."

"Well, well Moriarty," Holmes said, his eyes full of hatred, "It seems the fall has not damaged your mental abilities."

"I could say the same thing about you, Holmes."

Victoria watched this with confusion and I as well. Sherlock growled at his mistress' side and Moriarty turned to the dog.

"Ah yes, the infamous Sherlock dog," he said with a laugh that had no warmth at all, "Tell me, is he just as smart as the man he is named after?"

"He is smarter than you if that's what you mean," said Victoria icily.

Moriarty laughed aloud, causing the girl to shiver but never back away.

"Just like your father, you think you are so clever." Irene frowned and looked at the Professor curiously.

"Don't you talk about my father that way!" Victoria shouted furiously, "What have you done with him?"

"Could this be true?" the Professor asked, laughing more than ever, "She does not know anything? Oh, this becomes more interesting by the second!"

Holmes face was usually unreadable. But now, it was full of horror as he shook his head. Victoria looked at Holmes, as did I. I was quite lost in everything but seeing Holmes showing that much emotion in front of his enemy had me worried.

"Oh my God," Irene whispered, her face white.

"My dear, your father is quite safe. In fact, he is right here before your very eyes," said the Professor, "The man I have under lock and key is your uncle. Your mother had asked him to care for you like the father you never had, and he did just that."

"What?" Victoria whispered, looking at all the men around her, "Who…Who is it?"

"I will let you guess."

She looked at the wardrobe man, then Moriarty, then myself, and finally Holmes. Her eyes lingered on his hawk-like eyes, tall lean body, and I knew there was a match. That would explain everything, her amazing observation, her attention to details.

"Holmes?" I asked, my voice barely audible, "Is…Is she your daughter?"

Holmes was not looking at me, but at Victoria. There was a pause and then he nodded. Moriarty let out a bark of laughter that would have frozen beer. Irene was too shocked to move or even retaliate when Moriarty shoved her into the room until it was too late.

"I shall let you two catch up then!" he said and left the room with the wardrobe man and closed the door with a slam. Irene rushed toward the door and shouted furiously after the men, but to no avail. She kicked the door and sat on the ground in a huff. Victoria followed suit, Sherlock whining as he licked her hands. She was shaking her head as Holmes and I joined her on the floor.

"I met your mother during a case a long time ago," Holmes said, his eyes off in another world, "She was nothing like I had ever met before. She paid attention to every detail, she never minded that I knew almost everything about her just by observing, and she was quite a musician.

"I was in love instantly but my career required me to cut off all connections to those around me. I told her this, but she would not leave me. She said she did not care what happened to her, as long as we were together. She was quite stubborn, a trait that I believe to be genetic," he said with a chuckle but continued, "We were married quietly within a month of our meeting each other.

"Because of the fear that criminals could use your mother to get to me, we lived separate lives. It was painful, but it had to be done. One day, your mother told me she was with child and I was so happy. But then, I realized things would become more complicated and I did not believe a child should live without a father. I finally convinced your mother to live with her brother and have him be the 'father' for the child.

"When I learned she had died in childbirth, I was heartbroken. I could not, and would not, believe that it had happened. I attended the funeral disguised as a family member but I wept bitterly. I should have been there when she was dying, maybe I could have done something." He paused for a moment to steady himself and continued, "I tried to care for you in anyway I could but my job does not pay as well as I would like. There were times when money was tight but when I could, I sent money to help you in your education. I wanted you to be as smart as the schools allowed."

Victoria listened without a word. She never looked at Holmes, but at her dog as he lay on the floor.

"Why did you not take me with you?" she asked, still not looking up.

"I was afraid for your safety," said Holmes, shaking his head, "There have been times that I wanted to go to your apartment and tell you everything, but I thought it best if you did not know. I only did everything because I thought was best for you. I…I am sorry that I have not been there to see you grow up."

Victoria finally looked at Holmes with tears in her eyes. She then threw her arms around his slight frame and began sobbing. Holmes took a moment to recover and held his daughter close with shining eyes. Even I felt the pricks of tears forming in my eyes at this happy reunion even if it was in such a horrid place under terrible circumstances.

The two finally parted and Victoria wiped her eyes.

"I am sorry I left," she said, "It was foolish of me to think I could find my father…I mean my uncle without help. I brought you into this trap and put you in danger."

"We will find a way out of here," I said kindly and Holmes nodded in agreement. Victoria managed a small smile and turned her attention to Phillips. He was bleeding a little from his head.

"Will he be all right, Dr. Watson?" she asked worriedly as she wiped more tears from her eyes.

"I believe so, my dear," I said, looking the young man over, "His head will smart when he wakes up, but other than that he will make a full recovery."

She let out a sigh of relief and began looking around the room, her eyes resting on Irene. They went cold instantly with such intensity that Irene must have felt the gaze on her and looked up. I was taken aback by how deflated the older woman looked. Her air of confidence was gone as well as the light behind her eyes.

"Where is he?" growled Victoria.

"I don't know," Irene said with a sigh. Even her voice sounded different, perhaps more tired? "The Professor only asked me to keep an eye on his men and report on the situation at Baker Street. I know nothing. I'm sorry."

Victoria looked at the woman for a moment and let out a sigh of her own. She then began to continue looking around the room for a means of escape. Holmes was doing the same thing and I almost laughed at myself. Why had I not seen the relationship before? Those two were so much alike, it was as if they shared each others' thoughts.

There was a groan and Phillips sat up, rubbing the back of his head. Victoria went over to him with a relieved smile and helped him sit up.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

"All right," he muttered, looking at Victoria with a smile, "Thank you."

She helped him to his feet and they went around the room, walking off the stiffness in Phillips' limbs. Meanwhile, I saw both father and daughter continue to look about the room with their calculating stares. Finally, Holmes stood up and began pacing. I put my hands in the pockets of my coat and found I still had my revolver. It seemed Moriarty had forgotten to have us searched.

"Holmes?" I said and he turned to me. I showed him the weapon I had and I saw the wheels turning in his head.

"Hmm, I believe I know a way out of here," he said, "Give me a moment to finalize the details. Detective Phillips, you do not happen to still have your weapon, do you?"

"No Mr. Holmes," the young man said sorrowfully, "The large man ripped it out of my grasp before knocking me to the ground."

"I do."

Irene stood up and hitched up her skirts. The men in the room quickly averted their eyes and Holmes didn't look up until she pressed the gun into his hands.

"They always forget to search the woman," she said quietly with a ghost of a smile.

Holmes took the weapon with a nod of thanks and said, "Victoria, press an ear and eye to the keyhole and tell me if you see guards. I am sure Mr. Phillips will still be standing when you return."

Victoria nodded and went to the door, if not slightly more colored than before Holmes had spoken. She listened hard and looked through the small hole. When she faced us, she looked happy.

"No one is out there," she said, "I think they must have thought we would be much too upset to plan an escape. Shall I unlock the door?"

"How?" I asked with a frown. This was too much for my brain to take in at once. "Do you have the key?"

"There are other ways of opening locked doors, Doctor," said Victoria with a smile. She took out the pins in her hair and set to work as some strands of her hair fell down her back. We all heard the satisfying sound of a lock opening and Holmes took two long strides so he was in front of Victoria, loading his own gun, handing mine and Irene's back while Victoria pinned her hair back up.

"Stay behind me," he whispered to us all, "Victoria, are you able to carry the dog?"

"Of course," she said and held the dog in her arms. Sherlock seemed to know to be quiet because he did not object to being held.

Holmes went down first, followed by Irene, Victoria, and Sherlock, then Phillips and I, Phillips leaning on me for support as we went. We had just reached the bottom floor when I thought to myself how easy this escape had been. Then, suddenly, there were gunshots.

Holmes banged open the front door and pushed Phillips, Victoria, and Irene out, shouting for them to run. I was shooting at the attacking men and soon Holmes came to my aid. The smell of gunpowder was overwhelming as bullets ricocheted off the walls and doors, and the sound of guns firing was almost deafening. Finally, Holmes grabbed my arm and we ran. The men were not following us, but we still ran as fast as we were able to, with Holmes having to drag me sometimes so I could keep up. We dashed all the way until we reached a park and saw Irene, Victoria, Sherlock, and Phillips waiting for us with worried looks. When she saw us, the young girl let out a relieved sigh and threw her arms around her father.

"Thank heavens!" she said, her eyes shinning, "I was getting so worried when you did not come out straight away!"

I saw Phillips looking at Holmes and Victoria with a frown. He caught my eye and I went over to him.

"Is everything…all right, Dr. Watson?" Phillips asked warily.

"It is now, my boy," I said with a smile, "It seems that our young victim is not looking for her father, but her uncle!"

"Is that so?" Phillips asked with a confused expression. His eyes fell once again on the two people who were embracing one another and his expression darkened somewhat. "Tell me Doctor," he said stiffly, "Since when have Mr. Holmes and Miss Victoria become so…close?"

"Oh, forgive me Mr. Phillips," I said with a small laugh, "I forgot you were unconscious at the time. Victoria does have a father: Mr. Holmes."

Phillips expression went from shock, to more confusion, to gloom, to blank within a matter of seconds. He nodded at me.

"Congratulations to them both then," he said politely, "But what of her uncle? What did Professor Moriarty want with him?"

"I believe he tried to lure Holmes there," I said thoughtfully, "He knew that Victoria would attempt to find her father by herself and that Holmes would go after her to rescue her. Although, I am not entirely sure why he would not just kidnap the girl and make things easier for himself."

"Did Mr. Holmes know Miss Victoria was really his daughter?" Phillips asked. I shrugged unknowingly and he continued, "Then why would Mr. Holmes rescue a young lady he had never met before? Mr. Holmes had to know who Miss Victoria was before he attempted to stop Professor Moriarty from harming her."

I nodded and saw that the two family members were talking now. Holmes suggested we all go back to the apartment and clean up, afterwards discussing what the next steps were to be. We all agreed this was a good idea and I managed to hail a hansom to take us back. I turned to Holmes to ask if he was ready and found him talking quietly with Irene a few feet away. I could not hear the conversation but Holmes was gesturing to the hansom and Irene looked unsure. Finally, she nodded reluctantly and got inside. As the rest of us were all getting in, Victoria turned to see Phillips getting ready to close the door from the outside.

"Are you coming, Detective?" she asked with a frown.

"I unfortunately have pressing business at Scotland Yard that I must see to," he said with a slight bow, "I am sure Mr. Holmes or yourself will brief me when I am able to return."

"And when will that be?" she asked, her usually well-hidden emotions showing that she was upset he was not joining them.

"I am not entirely sure," Phillips said, "But if I do not see you again, it was an honor meeting you Miss Holmes."

"But surely," I cried, leaning forward in the cart, "You will continue helping us with the case?"

"I believe you are capable of handling it alone for a while. Good day Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, Miss Adler, Miss Holmes," said Phillips and shut the hansom door, knocking on it so the driver knew they were ready.

The hansom lurched and we were off. I saw Victoria looking out the window with a mixture of confusion and hurt on her face. I was not the only one looking confused, for Holmes was frowning as his brow was furrowed in deep thought. Irene was looking at her hands without seeing them and I could have sworn I saw her eyes shining. I just sighed and stared out the window as the carriage traveled down the streets of London, wondering what could have caused our young detective to leave our services so suddenly.

_Author's Note: So Victoria's identity is revealed! I know a lot of you guessed she was related to Holmes so congrats to you all for figuring it out. However, the mysteries don't end here. There is plenty more fun for the famous sleuth and his companions. Just to give you a heads up, I am leaving this Friday for two weeks and will not be able to update. The story is all typed up on my computer so all I have to do is put them up. My plan is to have it all up before I leave so I will be updating a couple times tomorrow and hopefully on Friday. Thank you to all my awesome reviewers, those who put me on their favorites, and have me on alerts. It's such a wonderful feeling to know you are enjoying my story just as much as I enjoy writing it! Remember, I love hearing what you think of my story so go ahead and press that review button. I dare you! :)_


	7. Chapter 7 Young Love

_Author's Note: I don't own Sherlock Holmes or anything you recognize. Whatever you don't recognize from the books came from the inner workings of my mind…scary thought, I know. :)_

Chapter 7 Young Love

When we arrived, Victoria and Sherlock were greeted warmly by a tearful Mrs. Hudson as they were looked over. Irene was shown to a guest room where she would be staying for the time being. Irene said she was tired and needed to rest, so she did not wish join us. After we had all had the chance to wash up, the rest of us sat in the study room as Holmes asked his daughter about her time as a prisoner. There were times when she would pause for a long period and Holmes would coax her gently along. Holmes and I were rather worried. Finally, I suggested that Victoria get her rest and then she could continue her narrative later. Holmes nodded in agreement and Victoria left us quietly with her sheepdog shadow. When they had gone, Holmes lit up his pipe and sat with a thoughtfully dark expression on his long face.

"This does complicate things, does it not Watson?" he asked me as he puffed his pipe.

"Yes, but what I do not understand is why Detective Phillips left so suddenly? I thought he was enjoying the case."

"Don't you see Watson?" Holmes asked impatiently, "The way he looked at her when he shut the door, the pain in her eyes as we were driving away, her inability to recall all the facts? They are in love!"

"But if they are indeed in love," I said with a frown, "Why did he leave?"

"He is intimidated by her now," said Holmes matter-of-factly, "Before she was the daughter of a poor engineer but now she is related to one of the most sought after detectives in all of London, though I do not mean to sound pompous. I think he finds himself unworthy now and wishes to cut off all connections before he falls in even deeper."

I recalled my marriage to Mary and how horrible I had felt when I had found out she was really a wealthy heiress. I knew that it would have been selfish of me to ask for her hand, me a poor surgeon and assistant to a detective who, at the time, was still gaining popularity. Yes, I knew quite well how the poor boy felt. Thinking about my wife made me realize just how much I missed her company. As soon as this case was finished, I would go back to our house and see her.

"What shall we do Holmes?" I asked, pulling out my own pipe and fingering it in thought, "It is plainly obvious that they are hopeless without each other now."

Holmes was about to answer when he stopped and cocked his head to the side, as though he were listening. Then I heard it too, the sound of scuffling feet and someone struggling. Holmes flew out of his chair and ran up the stairs, I attempting to follow as quickly as I could. My friend arrived before me but he was too late.

As I panted into the room, I saw signs of a struggle but that was it. Victoria and Sherlock were gone. From the looks of the room, they had put up a good fight. There were nail claws on the floorboards, the sheets were tousled, and the window was wide open with the white curtains blowing in the London breeze as the branches of a tree in the backyard swayed. The room was the complete opposite of the last time Victoria and her canine friend had left us. Suddenly, there was a shout from the room next door.

"SHERLOCK!" a woman's voice cried.

Once again, we burst into a room, the room Irene had been resting in, to find it dilapidated and empty. Holmes just stood in silence and rubbed his eyes with his long fingers before sitting on the end of the bed.

"It seems," Holmes finally said solemnly, "That the Professor has not given up the fight. Watson, I believe we ought to pay a visit to an old friend of mine and then take a trip to Scotland Yard."

I went outside to get a hansom while Holmes explained the situation to Mrs. Hudson. As we were pulling away, I saw our landlady in the window with a handkerchief to her eyes. We rode to a rundown area of the city to an apartment where there were animals of all kinds in every size cage. However, we were looking for only one.

"Good evening Mr. Holmes!" the owner said happily, "I'll get Toby for you right away."

He soon arrived with Toby, a short and squat brute with large, sad looking eyes. However, his tail was wagging eagerly for the chance to show off his amazing power of scent. Holmes had used him several times before, the most well-known during the Jonathon Small case.

With dog in hand, we rode to Scotland Yard headquarters. As we walked through the building, many a man poked his head out of his office to see the famous Sherlock Holmes walking a waddling dog. It was a sight to behold, I must say. Upon arriving at Phillips office, Holmes did not even knock but entered and shut the door behind me with a loud snap. Phillips was sitting at his desk reading over a file and eyed the dog warily.

"Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, what a surprise to see you here so soon! I am afraid I am rather busy at the moment but if you come back tomorrow morning, I will-"

"I am afraid that tomorrow morning might be too late," Holmes said with a hint of winter in his tone, "It seems Victoria has been kidnapped."

"Again?" Phillips asked with raised eyebrows.

"She was not kidnapped before," I said defensively, "She walked into a trap laid out by Professor Moriarty."

"And Professor Moriarty has also taken Irene Adler," my friend continued, "It would seem as if he has more in store for her."

"And what do you wish for me to do?"

"We are going to find them," I said, getting rather impatient now, "And we are asking you to come along. Do you not care what becomes of Victoria now that you pulled yourself off the case?"

"On the contrary Watson, I think he cares too much. Am I right Phillips?" Holmes asked.

"My friends," said Phillips, his tone like hard steel, "I am a busy man and I do not have time to go gallivanting about London with you two and a beast looking for women who keep getting into things that are much to large for them. Now, if you would excuse me, I have work to do."

I turned to Holmes, who was shaking his head sadly. I, on the other hand, was shaking with rage. He was going to give up on what he wanted! No, I would not allow him to. I silently asked Holmes to step out for a moment, which he did willingly. Then, I turned my attention to the young man before me.

"Phillips, are you going to just let her go like that?" I asked and his head shot up in shock, "My friend, you were not very subtle."

"Dr. Watson, you do not understand," Phillips said, his shoulders slumping, "My wages are low and it would be a sin to ask for her hand when she is much higher up than me. I could never do that to her."

"I know exactly what you are going through," I said with a kind smile, "My wife was supposed to inherit a fortune when I met her. I felt the same way you did, but I plucked up the courage and asked her. Although, this was after the fact we learned her fortune was lost in a five mile stretch in the Thames. Let me tell you something, take it from someone who has been through it too. If you really love her and she feels the same way, it won't matter if you're living in Buckingham Palace or in a cardboard box."

Phillips nodded and got up, opening the door where Holmes was waiting patiently while holding and petting Toby.

"Where is she?" Phillips asked.

"That's the spirit boy!" said Holmes with a glint in his eyes, "Toby has the best scent in all of London. If any dog can find Victoria and Irene, this one can." He put Toby on the ground and pulled out a handkerchief that belonged to Victoria. When I opened my mouth to ask why we were only using something of Victoria's, Holmes explained, "They are bound to be in the same place Watson, the Professor wants to keep a close eye on them both."

Toby smelled the fabric, put his nose in the air, and let out a bay as he took off, dragging Holmes behind him. Everyone in the vicinity laughed heartily while Phillips and I ran to keep up with the man and dog. We ran down the streets of London as night began to fall.

"Holmes," I asked, falling in stride with him as Toby pulled him along, "Why would Moriarty kidnap Victoria? Surely after our escape he must realize it would be preposterous to use her to lure you again?"

"And yet, here we are looking," said Holmes with a shrug, "But I agree with you Watson, there must be another motive. I am beginning to wonder if the uncle really was the intended target."

"And what does he want with Irene?" I continued, "She said herself that the Professor was only asking her to do small things for him. Why would he care if she was gone?"

"He knows my weaknesses," said Holmes sadly, "If I would not come to save my own daughter, at least I would come to save the woman I love. But see Watson at Toby's wailing? We are getting quite close my friend, the game is afoot!"

I had never heard Holmes openly admit he loved Irene. Sure, it was painfully obvious he had a soft spot for her, but love? Since when did Holmes, the calculating machine, fall in love? But I should have known it was possible, he had said he was in love with Victoria's mother. I put these thoughts aside as we reached a dingy dock while the last rays of sunlight pushed their way over the horizon. Toby put his nose in the air and began pacing back and forth, whining and whimpering in anxiety.

"Good boy," said Holmes and the dog sat, wagging his tail happily, "Watson, I believe they are still around here, otherwise Toby would have ran to the water and barked in frustration."

"But how are we to know where?" Phillips asked impatiently, "Look at the boats in the docks! This could take all evening and that may be too long."

Holmes pulled out a different handkerchief with the initials I.A in the corner, and put it to the dog's nose. The dog sniffed the air and walked down to the end of the dock where there was only one ship in the yard. A man was untying the rope from the dock and pushing off. From the light behind him, I could see he was a tall, broad man. He was the wardrobe man.

Holmes tied up Toby to the dock and snuck quickly and quietly onto the stern as we followed. All of us pulled out our revolvers and pistols as we snuck around the ship. There was no one in sight but we could hear music and laughter from below deck.

"Early celebration no doubt," Holmes whispered, "I hope you two can swim? That might just be our only way out of here."

We nodded and continued below the deck. There were four rooms, two were full of loud and drunken voices. Holmes went over to the other doors and looked in through the key hole. At the second door, he nodded towards us and picked the lock on the door. Guns up, we entered the room and found Victoria unconscious with her hands behind her back on the floor. Sherlock wasn't moving either, but I could tell he was breathing. The only one who was awake was Irene, but she was making no attempts to free herself. She did not even blink, but looked up at us in a bored fashion.

Phillips ran to Victoria and got her into a sitting position and looked her over worriedly. I knelt beside her and checked her pulse, it was weak but there. Holmes went to Irene and untied her.

"What now Holmes?" Phillips whispered furiously, "We can't swim to shore, can we?"

"There's a rowboat hanging on the starboard side," I said suddenly, "We could escape in that."

"No, I don't think you will."

Great arms ripped the gun from my hand and shoved me to the ground. I heard a struggle above me and three more thuds resounded. Phillips was fighting because I could hear him cursing loudly and profusely.

"Shut him up already!" Moriarty's cold voice said and I heard a gun click. The young detective stopped immediately. "So, you thought you could sneak onto my property again without being caught? After that last intrusion, I increased security around me."

"Congratulations," said Holmes in a darkly sarcastic voice.

"I'd like to see you get out of this one Holmes," the Professor said, "There is no where to run on a boat. Cain, Michaels stand guard outside the door while Small stays in here. I want an update every quarter hour without fail, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Professor!" three voices said.

The man pinning my arms back released his tight grip and leaned against the closed door after his two companions left. We now learned the wardrobe man's real name was Small, which was quite ironic. He watched us with a stupid grin on his face as he drank from his heavy, metal flask. Holmes shifted his cold gaze from the man to his daughter, who was now lying unconscious in Phillips' arms.

"Watson, I believe she was hit by a blunt object from behind?" he asked.

I stood up and went beside Phillips, rubbing my sore shoulders. There was a welt on the back of her head and a little bleeding.

"You are right Holmes," I said with a sigh, "But she should be fine, probably a little dazed when she wakes up."

"When will that be?" Phillips asked, pushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"She was obviously awake when they took her, as shown by the mess of her rooms," said Holmes, "So they must have hit her head to get her through the window. If that is true, she will be awaking within a matter of minutes."

"Or seconds actually," I said, seeing Victoria's eyes fluttered and she groaned, touching the back of her head.

"Detective?" she whispered, looking around, "Dr. Watson…Holmes? What are you doing here? Where are we? Where's Sherlock, is he safe?"

"Miss Holmes, everything's going to be just fine," said Phillips soothingly, "See, Sherlock's over there and he will probably be waking up soon, just like you."

Victoria looked over and saw her dog, whose eyes opened and his tail wagged lightly. Looking very relieved she leaned back, seeing to be content in the young man's arms. Holmes and I exchanged a look and tried to hide our satisfaction. Holmes then told his daughter and Irene of how we had heard the commotion and came too late both times, and then how we used a very smart dog to find them. Holmes was careful in what he said because of the big man named Small standing by the door in the room. When we finished, Victoria was silent as she petted her dog while Irene just nodded and lowered her eyes to the floor. Holmes looked at the older woman with concern and reached out to touch her arm but she shifted away and stood up, walking to the other side of the room.

"They really did want my uncle," Victoria whispered shakily, "That invention he was working on, they want it. Moriarty thinks it can be used to create new weapons that will change the face of crime forever. What happens now? What will they do to us?"

"We will think of something," said Holmes, turning his attention from Irene to Small with his calculating gaze.

"I will not let anything happen to you," Phillips whispered so quietly that I almost didn't hear it, "I am so sorry I left and I promise to make it up to you."

Victoria responded with a nod and wrapped her arms around her shoulders and leaned against his chest. I turned away to chuckle as I thought to myself how wonderful young love was.

_Author's Note: Aww, I know the ending is corny and full of fluff but I couldn't resist. The next few chapters are darker so I thought I'd keep the mood light for now. Reviews are greatly appreciated as always so thanks in advance for your input! :)_


	8. Chapter 8 Escape Plan

_Author's Note: Sadly, I do not have the honor of owning Sherlock Holmes. I hope you guys like this chapter!_

Chapter 8 Escape Plan

Holmes was looking beyond this world and I could tell he was thinking of a way out of this predicament. It seemed Mr. Small would come to our aid without even meaning to.

"Is that ale?" Holmes asked suddenly, jerking his head towards the flask.

"Yeah, want some?" Small held out the flask. Holmes stood up and took a long sip, smacking his lips when he finished. I noticed that the flask was made of heavy metal, solid heavy metal…

"Very good ale, very good indeed," he said, drinking some more.

"Don't drink it all now!" Small said angrily, "Give that back!"

As he reached for the flask, Holmes sidestepped him and whacked Small on the back of his head with his own flask. Small didn't make a sound as he crumpled to the ground. I helped Holmes push the man to the side and we listened quietly to make sure the men outside our door did not come in to investigate the thud the flask had made on Small's head. But, to our advantage, the noise from the other rooms had drowned out the noise made in our room.

"Now we have to take care of the men outside the door," I said, "Without making too much noise."

"And we have to get my uncle," said Victoria, "They put him in the room next to mine."

"And then we have to get the rowboat and get away without being brought back," said Phillips.

"Give me a moment to think," said Holmes and he began pacing the room while we watched him.

"How is your head feeling?" Phillips asked, turning to get a better look at the welt on the back of Victoria's head.

"Sore but otherwise fine," she replied with a kind smile, "I guess I know how you felt when you woke up after being knocked on the head. Do you have any suggestions on how to stop the throbbing?"

"I have a plan!" said Holmes suddenly, cutting off Phillips' answer, "Watson, be ready to fight." Holmes went up to the door and banged on it, shouting in a very good impersonation of Small's thick drone, "Hey! The dog just went to the bathroom in here, someone get a bag and the other help me clean this up!" exactly

"All right, Cain, go get a bag to put the dog's deposits in!"

The other man named Michaels unlocked the door. He entered and Holmes and I lunged on him, knocking him unconscious with the flask like we did with Small. I dragged the men into a corner while Irene ripped the upholstery into strips to bind their arms and legs and to gag their mouths. Cain entered soon after and we made him unconscious too. Holmes took the keys from Cain's belt and slipped out with Irene behind him. Phillips made sure Victoria was able to walk while I looked over the dog. He seemed very happy to see me and even licked my face.

A couple of minutes later, Holmes and Irene appeared supporting another man. The new man was of medium height with graying auburn hair and freckles on his pale, wrinkled face. He wore thick glasses in front of golden brown eyes that were looking at Victoria with happiness.

"Victoria, my angel!" he said, finding the strength to walk over and embrace his niece, "Oh I was so worried about you!"

"I know," said Victoria, tears falling, "I was worried about you too."

"I'm sorry but we need to hurry before Professor Moriarty realizes his guards are not going to report to him," I said, wishing I did not have to cut their reunion short.

So, all of us managed to sneak up onto the deck and into the boat without being stopped or shot at. Holmes and I lowered the boat into the water and helped the others get in. Irene, the last one left besides Holmes and I, was about to get in when there was the sound of a gunshot and I felt a searing pain in my shoulder. I dropped to my knees, clutching my shoulder and felt a warm, sticky solution running down my hand.

"You really should not have tried to escape again Holmes!" Moriarty shouted, "Look what it is about to cost you."

"Watson!" Holmes said urgently as he dragged me behind a crate, "Are you all right?"

"Nothing I haven't endured before, Holmes," I said through gritted teeth. I had been shot at before during the Afghan war, but that did not mean it hurt any less.

"Well old chap, it seems as if the Professor and I are destined to face each other again," said Holmes with a grim smile.

"I will take him to the boat and come back," said Irene quietly, "You cannot face him alone. He has men backing him up and you need someone to do the same for you."

"No, I am putting everyone I care about on that boat and sending them to shore. I will not lose the people dearest to me tonight."

"Like I said, I will take the doctor and-"

"That includes you too, Irene," said Holmes, looking at her with his hawk-like gaze, "I will not lose anyone I love tonight. Take Watson and go."

"This is madness Holmes!" I said and felt my vision swimming as a wave of nausea tried to overcome me, "You cannot do this alone."

Irene and Holmes picked me up before I could protest and placed me into the boat that had pulled up alongside us. Irene looked at the detective and embraced him tightly before climbing into the boat. Not one eye was dry as Phillips paddled to shore, even Sherlock howled in sorrow. Suddenly, there was a shot and a splash. A cold feeling ran down my spine. A voice called out to us from the boat, a voice I wished to never hear again. The voice of Moriarty.

"The beloved detective is dead!"

Victoria let out a scream and sobbed uncontrollably into her hands. Irene wrapped her arms around the young woman, her face wet with tears. I turned slightly to see Phillips with shinning eyes and Sherlock whimpering as Mr. James petted the dog. He too had full eyes that were just starting to flood over. Sherlock Holmes, our friend, father, and hero, was dead.

We got out once we reached shore and turned back to the water. We could see the lights of the boat like fireflies on the water. I shuddered violently as Phillips supported me and he sighed.

"We should get back, the doctor needs medical attention as quickly as possible." Irene nodded and led an inconsolable Victoria onward. Mr. James and Sherlock followed while Phillips and I were last. We reached the house and went upstairs. Mr. James told Mrs. Hudson to send for a doctor and she nodded. Just before she left, she frowned and turned to Phillips.

"Where is Mr. Holmes?" she asked, "Will he be coming later then?"

Victoria, who had just started to calm down a little, broke into fresh sobbing and Mrs. Hudson realized that Holmes would not be coming back again. The landlady, who had never really gotten along with my companion, put a hand to her mouth to stop a quivering lip and apologized before swiftly leaving but not before a dry sob was heard.

About fifteen minutes later, one of my colleagues came into the room and started treating us. Or at least, I assume he treated the rest of the group. I was first priority and was given medicine to make me sleepy and unaware of my surroundings so the bullet could be removed. The last thing I remembered was searing hot pain of the bullet being taken out and blackness.

…

Days went by in mourning. Phillips filed his report of the case and managed to gather a search party to try and find Holmes' body. Obviously they had no luck, the Thames was the worst place for the police to find bodies. For the second time, I buried my friend without a body. The funeral was exactly a week after the event.

Victoria was not handling the death well. In just a week, she had dropped weight dramatically. When she did sleep, it was fitful and full of nightmares. Her uncle tried to be there for her, but the death was hard on him as well. Phillips did what he could to console Victoria, but it was not much. There is nothing you can really do to help a person in mourning except give them time.

Irene too was very upset by the death. She was staying in Baker Street until she could get back on her feet. I could tell she was a different person than before. It looked as if her life of crime was going to end.

As for myself, I was a mess. Immediately after the funeral, I walked to my old house and knocked on the door. I realized more than ever I needed Mary, I needed my wife. Our maid answered the door and showed me into the living room.

"The missus will be down in a moment," the maid said and I nodded.

I stood in front of the fireplace and looked at the photographs we had on the mantel. My eyes went instantly to my wedding picture. There were Mary and I in the middle, Mary looking like a perfect angel. And there, on my other side, was Holmes. He was my best man, although it took much cajoling. I laughed quietly as I remembered how much Holmes had opposed my idea of marriage. Then my laugh turned into a sob and I looked away from the picture, my hand over my face.

"John?" I looked up and saw my wife standing by the door, a look of concern on her face. "What's the matter? You don't look well, sit down, please."

I sat down on the couch beside her and took her hand in mine. We sat in silence for some time before I found my voice and was able to speak.

"He's gone Mary," I whispered, "I think he's really gone this time. Oh God, I just can't believe it! I keep thinking he will come back like the last time, but I heard that damnable man's voice say Holmes was…"

"Oh John," Mary said and embraced me.

"I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner," I said, the words coming out like a waterfall, "I was going to sooner but my pride kept me away, and then I became sick and was bedridden for a week, and then I could not leave Holmes in the middle of a case."

"It's all right John, I forgive you. It was such a stupid argument, I knew there was a good reason why you did not come back sooner."

Mary and I talked for hours, until it was almost dusk. I explained to her that I had to go back, that I could not leave Victoria with only her uncle just then. They were waiting until the end of the month before moving back to their old home. Then there was Mrs. Hudson who needed help getting the affairs in order. With me living in my own home and Holmes no longer there, she needed to rent the rooms out to new tenants. Irene had announced yesterday that she was going to South America to start over.

"I can't stand being here anymore," she had explained with tearful eyes, "There are too many memories, ones that I want to forget so badly. Plus, I can start over again with a clean slate."

Mary understood and told me she would be here when I got back. I thanked my wife profusely for her unwavering kindness and made my way back to Baker Street. I reached the door and just as I was looking for the key, I heard a commotion from behind me. Turning, I saw a gang of young men surrounding a hunched, withered, old beggar woman.

"Hey!" I shouted and ran over with my cane raised, "Stand back, leave the woman alone!" They did not really listen until I pulled put my pistol and clicked the lock off. That managed to scare them away. I saw the woman was sporting a good deal of cuts and a bruise was forming around her right eye. I got her to her feet and led her to the door, unlocked it, and carried her up the stairs. Mrs. Hudson met us along the way and sighed.

"Why is it that every time one of you comes into this house, there is some type of injury?" she asked exasperatedly. But she smiled slightly and ran to get my medical bag.

I set the woman down in the study where everyone was sitting. Victoria looked up from her book and her eyes went wide.

"What happened Doctor?" she asked, her voice full of compassion.

"Some men were attacking her and trying to rob her," I explained, "Am I right madam?" The woman nodded, probably too shocked by her experience to speak.

"We will leave you then," said Phillips and he led Victoria and her uncle out of the room. Irene went to leave as well but stopped and laid a thin hand on my shoulder. Like Victoria, she had lost too much weight since that fateful night.

"God bless you Doctor," she said, "You did a brave thing tonight."

She left without another word and left the door open as Mrs. Hudson entered with my medical bag, a rag, and a china bowl full of warm water. I began to clean the cuts and realized I was out of the healing ointments I needed. I remembered Holmes had a jar by his chemicals and I reached over to grab the jar sitting on the desk. As my eyes fell on the glasses and powders, I sighed forlornly.

"Is something wrong sir?" the woman asked in a thin, frail voice. This was the first time I had heard her speak.

"No madam, I was just grabbing more ointment," I said heavily.

"Young man, I have lived a long time and I know when I am being lied to," she said, sitting up a little.

"Young indeed," I said bitterly, looking away, "Too young to deal with this much pain, yet here I am. This is the second time I have mourned for the loss of my dearest friend, my brother that does not share my blood. I look around me and see everything falling apart. Victoria and her uncle seem lost in the coldness of the world, Detective Phillips is losing hope of ever winning Victoria's heart, Irene is going to South America, and Mrs. Hudson will have to rent this place out to another tenant. Sure, Mary and I have worked out our disagreement but how long will that last?" I sighed and turned back to the woman while saying, "I'm terribly sorry madam, it has been the longest week of my…"

My words died out. No, it was impossible. It could not be true! My mind was playing tricks on me. It was a side-effect of all the stress I was under, that's what it was. I sighed with relief, shook my head, and fainted.

_Author's Note: I know this chapter was kind of depressing but perhaps there is a silver lining. Can you guess what I'm talking about or do you think this is just the rambling of a crazy writer who definitely hasn't gotten enough sleep? Anyway, I did the double update tonight and will hopefully be able to do the same tomorrow. I really want this story finished before I leave. Don't forget to review and make my day! :)_


	9. Chapter 9 Recalled to Life

_Author's Note: Yeah, yeah I know! I don't own Sherlock Holmes. It makes me sad to think about it._

Chapter 9 Recalled to Life

"Watson…Watson, wake up old chap!"

I groaned, rubbing my eyes and sitting up. I was on the couch in the study and Sherlock Holmes was sitting in a chair beside me, grinning with relief.

"Thank heavens, I was worried about you for a moment," he said, "How do you feel?"

"Completely shocked," was my reply as I stared in amazement, "I heard Moriarty say you were dead. I heard the shot. I saw a body fall into the water. I don't understand!"

"It is quite elementary actually. The Professor and I were wrestling for each others' guns and had gone behind a large pile of crates," Holmes explained, "A gun was fired and hit the Professor. I tried to grab him from falling but was only left with his jacket and hat. Realizing I only had seconds to act, I slipped on his clothes and told those on the ship that Sherlock Holmes had died. It was not my intention for you all to hear that and I am so sorry for the pain I have caused you all."

"But why did you not just come straight home? Why wait a week?"

"I saw an opportunity to put the most evil of men in jail forever so I played the part of Moriarty."

"How?" I asked in wonder but Holmes just smiled mysteriously and shrugged.

"Only yesterday," he continued, "I docked the ship where a select few officers took the criminals away. Phillips would have known nothing about this because he had taken some time off after he filed his report." I remembered Phillips telling Victoria that a few days ago. "I had heard that everyone thought I was dead and I did not want to frighten Mrs. Hudson, for I know she is very emotional. Therefore, I planned to enter Baker Street as an old woman and calmly tell her I was alive. Then I would let her bring one of you in at a time. However, the plan did not work because a gang decided to pray on who they thought was a meek beggar woman. Luckily, you came before they could do much damage.

"I saw how much everyone was affected by my so-called death, and believe me when I say that I had no intention of causing you this much pain again Watson. It was completely accidental this time, I can assure you. Can you ever forgive me, my friend?"

"Of course I can," I said without hesitation, "Everyone will be thrilled, poor Victoria hasn't been the same since that evening. I shall get them all straight away."

Holmes agreed that it would be best to have them see him at once; they had gone through enough suffering. I ran out of the study and shouted for everyone to come quickly. Footsteps echoed from everywhere and Victoria was the first to arrive with Sherlock behind her.

"Dr. Watson, what is it? What is the matter?" she asked as she ran in. When she saw her father, she just stared for two seconds, gasped in amazement, and ran to Holmes. "I thought you were dead," she said as she held him to her. Sherlock was barking loudly and jumping on Holmes, the dog's tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Mr. James, Phillips, and Mrs. Hudson came in next. Mrs. Hudson let out a shriek of shock, composed herself, and slapped Holmes across the face.

"What is the meaning of this? You gave us all a fright, you did!" she cried.

"It's good to see you too Mrs. Hudson," said Holmes with a smile, rubbing his face.

Phillips shook hands with the detective as if he were in a daze while Mr. James shook hands eagerly and with a huge grin.

"Welcome back from the land of the dead Sherlock Holmes," he said beamingly.

"Where's Irene?" I asked, "Victoria, please run and get her. I'm sure she will want to hear the news as well."

Victoria nodded and left swiftly. Only seconds later, the young girl was leading Irene into the room. Irene froze with her eyes wide, and she began to shake. I was afraid she was going to faint, but she composed herself well and only gave a small smile toward my friend.

"Welcome back Mr. Holmes," she said calmly. Holmes looked slightly confused but nodded politely. I looked from one to the other and was just as confused.

"I think now would be the appropriate time to explain yourself," said Mrs. Hudson, breaking the awkward silence, "I will get us some tea and biscuits so don't you dare start without me. I think I have a right to know everything too."

We all laughed, even Holmes who never laughed at Mrs. Hudson, and waited until the landlady returned. Once we all had tea and some biscuits, my friend told them all what he had already told me. They listened with rapt attention until the very end. Victoria was the first to recover.

"So Moriarty really is dead?" she asked.

"I saw the bullet go through his cold heart," said Holmes grimly, "Believe me, he is gone forever. But enough about me, I need to have some things cleared up immediately. Richard," he said in a lighter tone to Mr. James, "Would you kindly tell us why Moriarty wanted your services?"

"You see Holmes, I was inventing this fascinating bit of machinery. It would completely revolutionize modern means of transportation as we know it. I won't go into the boring details but all you have to know it that it runs on an engine that uses gasoline! Before now, no one has ever found a means for it and just thought it a useless byproduct of oil. Then, that horrible man came to my house and took me away. The Professor, as he likes to be called, told me my invention could be used to change modern warfare but I refused to help. My inventions would not be used as killing machines!"

"So he tried to persuade you otherwise?" Holmes asked and Mr. James nodded, turning to his niece.

"He said that if I refused him again, he would make you pay for it. He told me all about your attempt to find me and that he knew exactly where you were. I knew that you were with Mr. Holmes and that was the safest place in the whole of London, so I told him no. It seems I underestimated his abilities when I saw you arrive. I'm so sorry."

"Richard, did you tell him anything?" Holmes asked seriously, "Remember, even the slightest detail may be of the greatest importance."

"Never," Mr. James said, shaking his head so that his glasses almost fell off, "I did not tell him a word, I am sure of it."

"Very good," said Holmes, stretching in his chair, "Then I suggest we all try to get some rest. I do not know about you all, but it has been a very trying day."

"Father," said Victoria with a laugh, "This entire week has been trying!"

"Yes of course, I suppose it was. Anyway, off to bed with you young lady!"

"Yes sir, good night everyone!" said Victoria, "Come along Sherlock." The sheep dog rose to his feet and trotted after his mistress. I helped Mrs. Hudson carry the trays down the stairs and Irene returned to her room. Once I was sure Mrs. Hudson had everything together, I left and went back to the sitting room where Phillips and Holmes were sitting together and talking quietly. They stopped abruptly as I entered.

"I am sorry, did I interrupt something?" I asked, getting ready to turn around and leave.

"No my friend, we were finished anyway," Holmes said, standing up and walking to the door, "Good evening Detective Phillips and sleep well. Come Watson, let us let the poor lad rest in peace. I believe he has much to turn over in his mind before he can even think of sleeping."

So we left the young detective, who had been sleeping on the couch in that room for the last week, and each went to our separate rooms. As I read in my bed, I heard Holmes pacing in his room next to mine. Maybe it was me knowing him for so long, but I had a feeling he was thinking about Irene Adler and her reaction to his return. She was always able to keep her true emotions hidden so well. I was sure Holmes was turning it all over in his mind and would not get any rest until he solved this mystery.

Sighing, I put down my book and turned out my light. It took me a while to fall asleep for I was turning over the case in my own mind. It had turned out not to be as simple as Holmes had imagined it to be when he first heard it. I had not even imagined all the things that were learned from this case. This would be one we would talk about for the rest of our lives. Finally, the weight of sleep forced my eyes closed and I fell into the deepest sleep I had in a while.

…

No one was up before ten o' clock in the morning, except for Holmes but I imagined he had not gotten any sleep at all. We enjoyed a wonderful breakfast and Holmes spent the rest of the morning interviewing Mr. Richard James about his experiences as a hostage, as well as talking with his daughter. Irene had not come out of her room and insisted she was not hungry when lunch was offered for her. It was just after we finished eating when Victoria wished to take Sherlock for a walk in the park. Phillips offered to accompany her and Holmes suggested I go as well. As I was getting ready to leave, he pulled me aside.

"Watson, I am putting you in charge of her now," he whispered quietly, "Make sure nothing happens to her. Also, consider yourself her chaperone. Do I make myself clear?"

"You have my word Holmes," I said and put my hat on.

We walked to the park and down the paths. Eventually, I had to stop and rest and the young people went off a little way from me so I still had them in my line of vision. They were talking to each other intently, but I was too far to hear what they were saying. However afterwards, Victoria kindly told me the conversation they had, which I recorded right here:

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Phillips asked, looking around. It was damp, misty, and rather cold.

"Oh…yes, I suppose it is depending on your definition of lovely," Victoria said, "Did you get enough sleep on the couch?"

"Truthfully, I had a very hard time getting to sleep," he said, slowing down now, "I had a lot on my mind."

"Oh?" she asked, "Well, this whole experience is a lot to take in at once. I know that I had a hard time sleeping last night as well. To think that my father is alive! It came as a great shock to me and it took some time for me to finally calm down enough to rest."

"Yes, I never got a chance to formally congratulate you on finding out who your father actually was," said Phillips, almost forced, "It must be wonderful to have someone as famous as your father."

"I suppose it is," she said with a small shrug, "So far he has been a wonderful father. You know, I am very glad you came back. I could never have done as well as I did this past week if you had not been there for me, although I know I was very deeply depressed. I had been afraid I would never see you again when you left us in the hansom that day." Phillips did not answer so she continued, "Why did you leave us so suddenly?"

"I had told you, I had other business to-"

"Detective, do you honestly expect me to believe that?" Victoria asked with raised eyebrows, "I did not believe it then nor do I now. Have we not always been truthful to one another? If you do not wish to tell me, just say so."

"I had to step back from the case for a while," Phillips said after a long pause, "My judgment was becoming affected."

"Your judgment? Why?"

"It was being clouded because…because, as the professionals would say, I was "getting too close to the victim". I was too worried about what would happen to you and not about the case as a whole."

"Worried…about me?" she whispered.

"Yes, you are all that matters to me now," he said, gaining momentum as he spoke, "If anything were to happen to you, I would have no reason to live. I have never met any woman like you in my life, nor will I ever I believe. You are devilishly clever, are never afraid to speak your mind, and when I first saw you running up those stairs after your dog," he had stopped and took her hands in his, "God could have sent a bolt of lightning down and I would have died a happy man. I know I am not the most wealthy man in London and that you could do much better than me, but I care so much for you and you cannot say that about all the men you would meet."

Victoria was silent for a few moments, looking the young detective in the eyes. Finally, she spoke quietly.

"I am not sure what to say right now except that was that the reason why you wanted to leave? You felt inferior to me! George, you have no idea how wonderful you are. You are caring, witty, and have the makings of an excellent detective. Money does not matter to me and it never has."

"But one day it might," said Phillips, "Victoria, my job does not pay as well as you deserve to live with."

"You forget that my uncle did not make a lot of money when I lived with him," she said and suddenly grinned widely, "You called me by my first name."

"Oh no, I'm sorry Miss-"

"Do not be sorry," Victoria whispered, still grinning widely, "Now that I heard you say it, I do not want to hear you call me anything else. George, please get this through that wonderfully thick head of yours, I…do…not…care!"

Phillips took her hand, looked at it, and kissed it lightly. Victoria's grin, if possible, grew wider. From my spot on the bench, I saw Phillips laugh like a boy at Christmas and hold out an arm that Victoria took willingly. He saw me watching and gestured for me to join them. I got up and walked over to the young people.

"Doctor, I wanted you to be our witness," he said and got down on one knee, "Victoria, I know that we have not known one another very long, but I also know that I love you with all my heart. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I already asked your father for permission and he agreed so," he pulled out a small, black velvet box and opened it to reveal a small, but beautiful diamond ring, "Victoria Elizabeth Holmes, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Victoria's eyes widened in surprise and she said, "Yes, of course!"

I smiled and politely turned away as the new couple embraced. Once I was sure they were finished, I looked up and shook hands with Detective Phillips and Victoria embraced me as well.

"Congratulations to you both," I told them happily, "Come now, let us tell this good news to the others."

So we returned home and the other three gave their congratulations. Even Holmes looked genuinely happy for his daughter and new son-in-law. However, I could tell something was nagging in the back of Holmes' mind and I would soon learn what it was that was bothering him.

_Author's Note: Only one more chapter to go, just to wrap a couple things up. How are you guys liking it so far? I couldn't kill Holmes, that would be horrible. I'd feel like a murderer. Reviews are wanted and greatly appreciated, as always! :)_


	10. Chapter 10 All the Loose Ends Tied Up

_Author's Note: Here it is, the final chapter! I don't own any of this except the people you don't recognize. Also, just for a heads up, this chapter is slightly AU with some of the conclusions at the end. Hope you all still like it though!_

Chapter 10 All the Loose Ends Tied Up

The evening found me once again reading in my bed. From my room, I could hear conversation coming from the study. Who was it? Frowning, I crept to my door and opened it so that I could hear the voices clearly. It was Irene and Holmes. Normally I would have closed the door and left them to their privacy, but just as I was doing so I looked up to see Victoria listening through her open door. She shook her head and signaled for me to stay so I listened, against my better judgment while giving her a disapproving look.

"Watson told me you are traveling to South America," Holmes was saying, "When do you leave?"

"In two days time," Irene replied, "I have to finish packing tomorrow."

"Where in South America are you going?"

"Anywhere the missionaries need me. I am going to be an English teacher's assistant. I won't know where I will be stationed until I arrive in Panama."

"I see," said Holmes and I could tell by his tone he was saddened, "Well, I wish you the best of luck and hope you find whatever it is you are looking for."

"Thank you Mr. Holmes. I should be getting to bed, good evening."

I quickly shut my door but did not dare move. I knew how well Irene could hear. I heard the door open and Holmes say suddenly, "Do you wish I were dead?"

A pause. "Pardon me?" Irene asked.

"Do you wish I had been shot instead of Moriarty?"

The door was closed back to its original position and I re-opened mine so I could hear Irene respond, "Why would you ask such a question?"

"The way you reacted to my return was emotionless, as if you did not care whether I was alive or dead," said Holmes and I knew by that tone that he was shrugging as he talked.

"You know I am not one to show my true feelings, Holmes."

"But I would think that if someone you thought was dead was, in fact, alive, you would not be so cruel and cold-hearted as to feel nothing," Holmes said testily, "Even I, who has been referred to as a calculating machine, would show joy or happiness or at least shock if I were in your position! If I thought you were dead and then actually saw you before me afterwards, I…I…"

"What would you do?" she asked and I heard the rustle of fabric and knew she had sat down.

"I would be overjoyed and demand to know how you had survived," he said as I heard him pacing, "And, especially after what I had told you before you left, I would want to know if your feelings for me were true. But you have proven that you do not care, and therefore I must learn not to. However, let me tell you Miss Irene Adler, that will be the largest challenge of my life."

"I did not remind you of that incident because I know how men react if they believe they are about to die," said Irene, "They say things that they should not say, and I do not want to hold you to your word. Do not feel as though your actions must follow what you told me that night. You have a beautiful daughter who is about to be married to a very lucky man, and a dear friend who cares for you like a brother. I would not want to ruin any of that for you."

"How would you ruin any of that for me?" asked Holmes in shock, "Having you in my life could only add to my happiness. I love you, I have always loved you. Why are you shaking your head at me? You don't believe me when I say that?"

"How am I supposed to?" Irene cried out, "You told Victoria that you loved her mother, and now you tell me you love me? What am I to believe Holmes?"

"Yes, I loved my wife very much. I have mourned her death in silence for years and years, too long as she would have told me. She would want me to be happy, as my daughter reminded me earlier today when I asked her opinion on the matter. I know that you can make me happy." He let out a deep sigh and continued in a weary voice, "However, if you have no feelings for me in return, I will not force anything upon you. If you still wish to go to South America, I…I will not stop you."

There was silence. I looked at Victoria and saw her anxious face staring hopefully at the door. I myself was worried too. Then, Irene finally spoke.

"You are an interesting man, Mr. Holmes," she said, "I guess that was how I fell in love with you. I don't want to go to South America, I want to stay here in London."

"Are you quite sure?" asked Holmes and I knew he was anxious and excited at the same time.

"Yes, very much so."

Holmes let out a laugh, loud and happy, and I saw Victoria smiling widely. She looked at me, waved, and closed the door to her room. I chuckled lightly and did the same, climbing into bed and falling asleep quickly.

…

So concludes our case. Victoria and Phillips were married two months after the case closed. Phillips was promoted to Lieutenant Detective and eventually led the entire Scotland Yard. Victoria stayed at home and took care of their four children. There were two girls, twins actually, and a boy and another little girl. They were always coming to visit Holmes and me and they enjoyed nothing more than sitting in our laps while we recounted past cases.

Mr. Richard James' invention was later attributed to another man, a fact which still annoys to him this very day. His great-nieces and nephew know better than to talk about the automobile business when he is in the vicinity for he has a tendency to rant and rave about how it was not even how he imagined them to be.

Sherlock lived to the ripe old age of sixteen and was still as boisterous and protective to his dying day. The day he died, we held a small service in the backyard of 221 B Baker Street, devoting a large corner in his name. His grave is still there to this very day, although not many people know about it. At the funeral, I even saw Holmes shed a tear to the loyal breed who he shared not only his name with, but a very strong bond.

Holmes and Irene were married a year later. I had never seen my dearest friend happier than when he was around his wife. He and Irene continued to live in the Baker Street apartments and, although they had no children of their own, Victoria's young ones were always dropping by for visits.

Mary and I had our disagreements at times, but we always worked them out together. I love my wife so much and had realized just how wonderful she was when I was away from her for that time. She is my life and my everything. I cannot imagine having to live without her.

As for Holmes and I, we are still in the consulting detective business and plan to be until we become too old and cannot walk two steps without having to stop and rest. I think that Holmes is glad this story is out for all to read. After all, it ties up all the loose ends of his life rather nicely, don't you think?

_Author's Note: It's finished! Hooray! Thank you to everyone who reviewed and had me on alert or in their favorites. Knowing you guys liked my story and followed it is amazing and makes me so happy! Any final thoughts or over all opinions of the story are always welcome so go ahead and review or PM me if you have any questions or comments or just want to say hi! I love talking with you guys and hearing your opinions. Thanks again everyone and hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it. :D_

_Love always,_

_silvermoony77_


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